Future Echoes
by x-lady-lestat-x
Summary: Angel XMen Buffy and Charmed crossover. Angel's soul is sent to his body's future, leaving his body souless for 15 years. Angel needs his friends' help to prevent this horrific future, but will they trust him after everything Angelus has put them through?


5/17/0711:28 PM

I wrote this back in 2000, just after the first X-Men Movie came out. It's a crossover between Angel season 2-ish, X-Men, Charmed, and Buffy. (None of the characters belong to me except for the girl named "Ashley" and the evil demons involved lol)

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Future Echoes

Angel picked up the battle axe, about to behead the evil demon-sorcerer. The sorcerer chanted as a ball of light grew at the tip of his jewel-topped staff. The orb flew at Angel. The light hit him and the light engulfed his form.

With his last moment of free will, Angel's ax hit the staff, cleanly chopping it in half.

Everything faded into the burst of white light. As the world reappeared, Angel found himself in a different place and, showing his vampiric face, had his mouth latched onto a woman's neck.

His eyes flashed with a glint of gold as he morphed back into his human form, and pushed her away. As he fell back against the wall, gasping out of the shock and the disorientation of having his soul restored, he tried to remember how he'd gotten there.

The woman ran to the door and tried to leave. The door was locked and could only be opened with a key. She hit the light switch, but no light came.

Angel got back to his feet very slowly. He was wearing different clothes than he had been while facing the sorcerer: a tattered trench coat, black pants, and a black v-neck crocheted sweater which had seen better days. This was not different from his normal _style_, but they were made from some unusual type of material and in a very poor condition.

Seeing him move again, the girl pressed herself into the corner of the room and froze, eyes wide in terror and breathing deeply from fear.

Angel wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Let me go. Please," the girl whimpered pathetically.

"I won't hurt you," he assured gentley as he walked over to the window. "Tell me who you are and what happened." He didn't remember anything: howed gotten there or even really what he was doing before he seemed to wake...

She pushed herself even further into the corner, as though that would help her to get away from him.

"You bit me... What are you?" she whispered.

Angel stopped by the window and looked out. They were in a very high apartment in a city he didn't recognize.

He began to remember fighting the sorcerer, back in Los Angeles, and being hit by the light. Any more recent memory, such as how he'd gotten to that room, still escaped him. "What city is this?" Angel asked. All of the skyscrapers went up to the clouds, and the cars below were odd-looking models. The sun was near to the horizon; either about to set or rise. Though it seemed like morning rush-hour on the streets, he was still confused; he still couldn't be certain what time of the day it was for a few more minutes.

"New York City..." the girl whispered.

"The last time I saw New York City, it wasn't this big."

"You _are_ in New York City," she repeated a bit more bravely. "They've added about seven new buildings since the construction bills were passed."

"How long ago was that? I was here only six years ago and none of the buildings seem familiar." Angel felt around in his pockets... No key.

"Maybe your memory is slipping," the girl accused very bravely. "The final bill was passed in 2005; the first of the skyscrapers was finished in 2007. At least two more of them were finished six years ago."

_2007?_ Angel was shocked. _What did that magician do?_ "What year is it?" he asked, still trying to find the key.

The girl was a little thrown by the question, but wanted to live, so she didn't make any comment before answering. "It's 2015; why not look at that shiny, new watch of yours?"

In the pocket of his dusty old trench coat he found a single key. "You can go."

The girl continued to keep her distance from him as she stood up straight and waited for him to unlock the heavy door. "Why did you attack me... but now want to let me go?"

"I needed your blood," he answered as he opened the door. "And I _would_ have killed you."

As soon as the door was all the way open she ran out and down the long hall to the elevator. "I always knew Mutants were capable of murder!" the girl yelled as the steel doors closed behind her.

He closed his door and walked back over to the window. The sun came over the horizon and he quickly shut the blinds.

Angel suddenly realized he _was_ wearing a watch; an item he had never made a necessity before. It said 6:40 AM. The date was February 23, 2015.

He turned away from the window and looked around the room.

There was a bed, one bookshelf full of books, a computer monitor on a desk, and a television set.

Angel gave a nervous chuckle. "Figured television would've been gone by 2010."

He walked over to the book shelf. There were a couple of books he recognized from the hotel in LA and over a dozen antique spell books he'd never seen before. There were also some newer history books and one... Watcher's Diary

He plucked it off the shelf and opened it to the first page:

Slayer Name: **Buffy Anne Summers**

Year: **2005 - 2010**

Watcher: **Rupert Giles**

Angel flipped through the brown leather book. He stopped at one of the last entries to read:

_December 13, 2010_

_For nearly a decade Buffy has protested against the destruction of Angelus. Though such a great length of time has passed, she still holds hope that one of Willow's spells for the restoration of his soul will prove to be a success. The original, Gypsy spell had absolutely no effect on him. Having failed all attempts at restoring _Angel's_ soul, we have successfully performed the Gypsy ritual on Buffy's once close friend: Xander. At first, we assumed the spell had failed, just as it had several times on Angelus and then considered that they may have erected some sort of barrier to block our magic. Four days after the ritual had been performed, Xander showed up at my house during the middle of the day. We were skeptical of his motives, dispite Willow's spell. It is evident that after having abandoned his Master, Angelus, he whole-heatedly wishes to, again, rejoin us in the battle _against_ all things evil. Since Xander's soul was restored, he has been coping as best he can with the change. It's been less than three days since his return to us and we can all sense that the depression, or anger, may lead him to taking his own life... _

He slammed the book closed._ I lost my soul fourteen years ago? _Angel asked himself. _And did I read that right: Xander a vampire; a vampire who was made by Angelus? _He still held no memory of those events. Assuming that his soul had just then been restored, his memory should have returned within minutes.

Angel laid the book down. Though the written passage had been short, Angel knew exactly what he would need to do: find a way to reverse the last fourteen years which he had made a living Hell for his friends. He went to the table.

There was a single sheet of paper in front of the monitor.

He picked it up, and read:

_Feb 24, 4 AM Central Park - Meet Roach _(_Dumas_)

"Dumas Assassin_..." _he repeated to himself. It was a breed of demon: usually seven feet tall, strong, agile, and protected from damage in battle by their thick skin and the long hair which covers their entire body. Most have very great intelligence, but at night were sometimes mistaken for werewolves. During the day, they have been called 'Big Foot.' They're usually hired to go after hard targets. With their thick skin, they can take several gunshot wounds before they are effected by it. They have bad tempers and don't like to be tricked, betrayed, or disrespected in any way. Their most sensitive area is at the base of the neck, the area where their skin and fur are quite thin.

Angel sighed. Roach could be the only creature able to tell him what he's been doing over the past few months. After all, he still needed to _kill_ demons as he searched for a way to turn time back by fourteen years...

He decided to come up with a plan...

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That night- 3:40 AM, Central Park

A few inches of snow was on the ground of the park. It had begun to lightly snow again as Angel walked down a dark pathway. He'd wanted to get there a little early, just in case _he_ was the one being set-up in some way.

For the activities of the evening, he'd decided to wear his most familiar wardrobe: black, buttoning shirt; black pants made from an odd type of thick cloth; and an undamaged, black, trench coat. Beneath his coat, he held concealed a fairly large-sized broad sword. It was the same sword he had used to kill many demons while he lived in Los Angeles.

Though black was not the most appropriate color to wear when attempting to stay hidden in a sea of white snow, he still appeared to be nothing more then a shadow moving silently through the abandoned park.

There were very few street-lights on at that hour, but in the distance, under one of the brightest lights, he saw two people. One was a woman in a long, hooded, green velvet trench coat, and the other was a man wearing a ragged, dirty outfit. He was holding a knife; Angel saw the glint of the metal reflecting in the lamp's dim bulb.

"Give me the money and you'll be fine," the man assured the woman in a raspy voice.

Angel ran to help.

"Don't hurt me, please... I just have to take off my gloves to get into my pocket," she explained calmly, beginning to slide the thin gloves off of her hands.

The man was growing impatient. "Just do it."

The girl dropped her gloves and began to reach her left hand into her pocket. Suddenly, the girl tried to grab the armed right hand of the mugger.

Before she could touch him, he delivered a hard left hook to her jaw, sending her to her back on the snow-covered ground.

Contact with the girl's skin hand sent a numbing shock through his entire arm. The man examined his hand, "What was that?" The man looked around, begining to panick. He chose to run. As he began to run, he looked back and saw a man, dressed all in black, moving silently closer. He disappeared through the bushy trees, fleeing even more quickly from the Good Samaritan rushing to the girl's aid.

Angel stopped next to the woman, letting the mugger escape to make sure that the girl was all right.

She had only been knocked out. There was a bruise forming where she had been punched and her lip was bleeding a little.

He crouched down next to her, grabbing onto her cold right hand with his, and placed his other hand on her shoulder, giving a little shake to wake her. Right now, _his_ skin felt warmer than hers. "Hey, are you all right? Wake up," he whispered softly.

Angel noticed that the woman was much younger than he had originally thought. From a distance he had estimated her age at no younger then thirty, because of the white streak in her dark brown hair. In reality, she was just a girl and no older than seventeen.

The girl woke up suddenly. Alarmed by his closeness, and the fact that he was touching her bare hand, she pushed him away.

Angel lost his balance and landed on the snow.

The girl got to her feet quickly. "A-Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" Rogue hadn't realized that he _wasn't_ the person who attacked her until he'd landed on the snow, and she hoped that her touch hadn't hurt him. There wasn't the usual feeling inside her that always came shortly after touching someone, but she wasn't sure.

Angel got to his feet, and brushed the snow off his pants and coat. "I'm fine; I landed on the snow, after all. Are you all right?"

"Not the push," she told him, shivering as she picked up her gloves. "Touching my skin... Didn't that hurt you?" Rogue slid a glove over her left hand.

"Why would your skin hurt me?" Angel asked, confused.

Rogue was surprised. "You didn't feel anything?"

Angel shook his head. "Nothing. You seemed cold to me, but that's all I noticed. Considering the temperature outside, that wouldn't be _too_ surprising."

Rogue walked closer to him, stopping about three feet away. "Please... hold out your hand."

Angel was confused by her reaction, as well as the request. He did as he was told: he held out his right hand to her, palm up.

She took the bottom of his hand in the covered palm of hers, as if for support, and then lightly touched the bare tips of his fingers with hers. Rogue watched his face, for any change in what he may be feeling.

Nothing was changing or happening at all.

Rogue smiled, taking his hand in both of hers. She looked at their hands; her skin touching his. He was the first person she had touched for a long time without hurting them.

Angel shrugged with a smile, now confused by her happiness, though slightly infected by it.

Rogue looked up at him to explain. Before she could speak, her eyes became large as a tall, shaggy, ape-like Mutant charged from behind. "Watch...!"

Roach tackled them to the ground, getting up quickly to continue the fight.

Rogue had been winded by the fall, but Angel got up as quickly as the creature to keep the girl from getting in the middle of the fight, as well as to avoid her being squashed beneath him, into the ground.

"Angelus, you've gone soft," the Demon accused. "Or has that peskey soul of yours finally found its way back?"

Angel smiled mischievously. "The latter. You should know that Angelus never goes soft. I'm Angel," he drew his sword, "and still about as soft as sandpaper."

Roach charged at Angel.

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Wolverine walked down one of the park paths, smelling the air.

About an hour ago, the Professor had come into his room. He was told to get Rogue, who was in Central Park walking. It wasn't safe for a teen-aged Mutant to walk alone in Central Park; it wasn't safe for anyone at three and four in the morning.

He suddenly caught her scent. There was some fresh blood; she'd been hurt. "Rogue!" he called loudly across the park.

There was some movement under a one of the path's only lights. It was some sort of a fight, and he could tell that Rogue was near them.

Wolverine ran to stop the fight before Rogue, or either fighter, could be injured.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel deflected the charging Dumas with a spin, hitting him in the spine with the handle of the sword.

Roach fell to the snow, onto his knees. He sat up and turned sideways towards Angel to deflect his attacks.

Angel rushed towards the fallen demon, sword ready to swing for the fatal decapitation.

Rogue sat up, coughing. She was still trying to recover from the fall.

Roach used his hands to spring his legs into the air towards Angel, kicking him hard in the stomach with both of his feet, but still landing upright.

Angel was knocked a few feet away, falling hard onto his back in the snow.

Rogue got up, and rushed towards Roach. She wanted to grab onto its arm, and weaken him enough for Angel and herself to escape.

Roach quickly backhanded her across the face, sending her back to the ground very roughly.

Wolverine ran past Angel and to the demon, punching it in the face hard with his steel braced fist.

Roach was hardly effected. He grabbed Wolverine by the neck quickly, and threw him off to the side and to the ground.

Wolverine slammed into the snow very hard.

Angel jumped to his feet, holding the sword.

Wolverine got to his feet almost instantly.

Rogue sat up again in the snow, this time only watching. She hoped that Logan could help Angel against the colossal Mutant who had started the fight.

"Both of you: stop fighting. Put down the sword and, Big Guy, you back off," Wolverine ordered with clenched teeth.

Angel looked away from Roach to the new-comer. "Stay out of this. If you get involved, you'll just get hurt."

Wolverine looked over at the girl. "Rogue, you all right?"

Rogue nodded quickly, looking over at Angel.

Angel and Roach charged at each other.

Wolverine ran between them, extending the blade of his left hand to the neck of the obvious Mutant, and his bare fist over Angel's heart.

Angel and Roach both stopped. Angel held the sword very still in his right hand, again in the position to decapitate Roach. Roach was startled by the sudden appearance of the three thick metal blades aimed at his throat.

"I said," Wolverine began slowly, "put down the sword, and both of you back off."

Angel and Roach glared at each other, still not moving.

"Do it," he ordered again, raising his voice.

Angel smiled, and swung the sword at Roach.

Roach quickly backed away from Wolverine's blades, and the blade of Angel's sword.

Wolverine's right blades shot out of his skin, all the way through Angel's chest. He swung his other hand's blades towards the sword to deflect the sharp metal from reaching it's target.

Angel froze again. The sword's blade was sliced cleanly off as the momentum of Angel's swing began to loose it's strength. With a numbness coming to his body, he lost hold of what was left of his sword.

"No!" Rogue yelled, scrambling up and towards Angel to help him.

Roach smiled, and turned, running away.

Angel stood in shock from the long blades through his body.

Wolverine withdrew all of his blades, catching Angel as he fell to the ground.

Rogue dropped to her knees next to him, putting her bare hand on his cheek, knowing that it wouldn't hurt him. His skin felt as cold as the snow and ice on which he lay.

"Rogue?!" Wolverine scolded, seeing her touching his skin. He figured that if _he_ hadn't all ready killed the guy, her touch _would_ kill him.

She looked up at him. "Logan, it's all right; I don't know why, but this doesn't hurt him." She looked back down at Angel.

"I'm all right," Angel reassured with a flinch, trying to sit back up.

Wolverine smelled the air, finally realizing something... "He's not human... Wait... He is..." Wolverine was a little confused, and he took one more deep whiff to be sure. "Whatever he is, he's dead."

Rogue helped him to his feet, and Wolverine supported him. "We can't let that happen; he can't die," she told Logan. "He tried to help me, now we have to help him."

"Who are you?" Wolverine asked Angel, barely hearing Rogue's plee.

Angel held his hand over the front of his wounds. "I'm Angel, and: no, I'm _not_ human... It looks like you aren't either," he commented looking at Wolverine.

"Neither of us are. I'm Marie and go by Rogue, mostly, and this is Logan... I mean Wolverine... I likes to be called by Wolverine."

Angel didn't usually bleed very much when wounded, but Wolverine's metal had gone through his heart. He _was_ loosing a lot of blood.

Rogue looked to Wolverine. "We should bring him back to the school; Jean might still be able to save him."

Wolverine nodded. "Jean could help," he agreed.

Rogue supported Angel's other arm and they began to walk towards the car Wolverine had been instructed to drive a car, instead of the motorcycle.

"Where are you taking me?" Angel asked quickly. It hurt him too much to speak, but he had to communicate.

"It's a school for people like us; for Mutants," Rogue answered.

Angel's pain was great, so he was willing to go along. He could use some bandages, even though he wasn't a so-called 'Mutant.'

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel opened his eyes, and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the steel slab. His shirt was off, and his injury was covered by some bandages. He had a needle in his arm, giving him a blood transfusion.

He was in a metal room on an exam table.

The last thing he'd seen was the back seat of a black, four door car.

A circular door opened at the far end of the room, and a dark-hared woman in a Doctor's coat walked in.

"Angel, how are you feeling?" the woman asked cheerfully.

"Better... Who are you?" Angel asked directly.

She extended her hand. "I'm Dr. Jean Gray."

Angel took it, giving a gentile shake.

"Still very cold," Jean commented, letting go. She picked up a clipboard from a desk near the exam table, and began to look it over. "Do you realize how much of a mystery you are?" she asked, looking up from the writing for any answer he might be willing to lend.

"Science hasn't exactly written a text book about me."

There was another table across the room.

Jean turned to that table, and reached her hand towards it. A pencil whizzed through the air, into her open hand. She began to write on the papers she had been reading from.

Angel was shocked by that little display. "What kind of Doctor are you?"

Jean looked up from her writing. "I started in general medicine, but I've since moved on to genetic research and chemistry." She went back to writing.

The main doors opened again, and a bald man sitting in a motorized wheel-chair came rolling in. He was wearing a pale gray suit.

"If you hadn't begun to heal when I started the blood transfusion, you'd be in the morgue right now. Your cells are completely dead, not to mention your heart doesn't appear to be beating and your body is at exactly room temperature," Jean explained. She looked over at the new arrival. "Good morning, Professor."

Angel looked down at the man.

"Hello, I'm Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my facility," the man explained, extending his hand.

Angel shook his hand. "I'm Angel."

The Professor began looking at him strangely.

Jean picked up on the Professor's concern. "What is it, Professor?"

He cocked his head a little, and then snapped out of the attempted mind-probing. The Professor decided to proceed with explanations. "The upper complex is a school designed to teach the gifted children; by gifted I'm referring to young Mutants who..."

"What's a Mutant?" Angel interrupted.

Jean and the Professor looked at each other, surprised by the question he had just asked them.

"A Mutant is a person born with a genetic defect. This usually gives them some type of special ability. During adolescence is when these gifts become apparent. You seem to be such a person," the Professor explained patiently. "Strength is just one gift you seem to possess."

"You regenerate quickly, though you have a very low body temperature, your cells are not alive, and I haven't recorded a single heart beat since you arrived here. In order for that to happen, and for you to be walking around in that state, you would have to be some type of Mutant," Jean continued. "Or at least possess _some_ sort of cellular mutation."

Angel was still apprehensive. He looked at his watch. 9:49 AM. The sun had risen a few hours ago, and there was no real way out of wherever he was.

"You may leave at any time you wish, but we _would_ like to know a little more about your mutation," the Professor explained kindly. "The study of mutation is the soul reason for this portion of our installation."

"You two don't smell human," Angel pointed out. "And I'm not a Mutant."

"We _are_ Mutants," Jean answered.

"Jean is telekinetic with developing telepathic abilities. I, on the other hand, excel in telepathy and have only a laughable degree of telekinesis," the Professor continued.

Angel looked down at the Professor. "When you came in, you tried to read my mind, didn't you?"

The Professor nodded.

"And you couldn't," Angel told him.

He nodded again, "That's true."

"Genuine telepathic abilities rarely occur outside of genetic mutation. If you've never heard of Mutants, then how did you know the Professor was unable to read your thoughts? Almost no one besides a Mutant could have ever tried," Jean pointed out intelligently. "And if you're not a Mutant, then what do you think you are?"

"You're a scientist and deal with natural mutation, right?" Angel asked, shortly, for clarification.

Jean nodded.

"Then you wouldn't understand; I'm not part of Nature," Angel explained very simply, as though that explained everything about him. "I wasn't born this way, but science can't even begin to explain the means by which I _was_ changed."

Jean gave a little laugh. "Try me. And if you don't want to explain, the results of your blood test will be done very soon, and all scientific data can be seen in that. We already know a lot from the tissue samples."

Angel was suddenly worried. Apparently these people _do _specialize in mutations, but they weren't prepared to find out what those types of tests could show them. If they _did_ see the scientific results of what he is, he'd never get out of this building. "I need you to destroy all the samples. You can't do tests."

The Professor was intrigued by that request. "Why?"

"Don't I have the right to say what tests you can run on me?" Angel asked, still revealing nothing about himself to the scientists.

The Professor was willing to respect the stranger's medical wishes. "Jean, please throw out his samples."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Is Rogue all right?" Angel asked suddenly. "Can I see her when we're through here? I want to thank her for trying to help me."

Jean nodded. "You can see her after her next class. She just has a few bruises... Are you going to get to the point?" She was becoming a little impatient.

"What I am..." Angel began slowly, thinking about what he could say. "... is none of your business."

"Any specific title, then?" Jean pressed mockingly, still being short with him. She'd wanted to examine the samples. "You _have_ to tell us something."

"Jean," the Professor scolded.

She immediately became compliant with his wishes.

Angel sighed. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

The door opened. Wolverine walked in and over to the group.

"Unless you can get me a cab and a few thick blankets, I have to stay here until sunset," Angel confessed.

"Why?" the Professor asked, confused about what motives he may have.

Jean began to take notes her clip board; details of what he'd already disclosed.

"I missed something, didn't I?" Wolverine asked, also confused by the request.

"Is there some place I can stay _until_ sunset?" Angel looked at the near-empty pint of blood he was being transfused with. He pulled the needle from his arm. "And where's my shirt?"

They were waiting for the answer to the Professor's question.

"I just need one room... Preferably without windows," Angel added. "And about five minutes with Rogue, if she'll see me."

The Professor nodded slowly. "If you wish for any more hospitality, you must be completely honest with us on just a few questions."

Angel gave a sly smile. "It will depend on the questions."

"Why did you attempt to kill that Mutant this morning in the park?" the Professor asked.

"He started it; ask Rogue." Angel looked at the Professor very seriously. "That creature wasn't a Mutant. He was a monster, a demon. A very violent and deadly one, might I add."

"Demon?" Wolverine asked, not believing him. "Rogue told me that thing _was_ the one who attacked first, but that doesn't mean that he was a type of monster. Sure, he was strong and fast, but a demon...? There's no way."

"That breed of demon is called a Dumas Assassin. They are very strong, fast, short-tempered, and it's pretty hard to win in a fight against one... for most _people_ anyway," Angel looked at Wolverine. "If you hadn't gotten our way, one of us would have ended up dead, and since I _started out_ dead, I'm thinking it would have been the demon with the disadvantage"

"If that thing was a 'Demon,' what does that make you?" Jean asked. It was the same question she'd asked him before, and she still wanted an answer.

He looked at her, giving a smile. "It makes me not quite human, mutant, or demon."

The Professor relaxed in his chair. "If you wish to walk freely about my school, I fear I must remind you of something curtail: none of the people here are 'Demons,' as you called the creature from the park. If you should decide to pick a fight..."

"I'll behave," Angel interrupted.

Jean nodded. "This way," she told him, motioning for him to follow.

Angel jumped down off the table.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel walked down an upper-story hall next to Wolverine.

Wolverine opened a door, and the turned into the room. "This should be good enough for you."

Angel began to look around the room. He walked towards the bathroom to see if there was anything else to the room, like a window, skylight, or other feature which might incorporate a natural source of illumination.

Wolverine waited near the door to make sure everything satisfied the guest before they both headed further down the hall to the Recreation Room where Rogue would soon be. He began to stare at the mirror on the wall; the angle should have reflected Angel at least partly, but he wasn't there at all.

Angel noticed the focus of his guide's stare. He walked over to the mirror, and lifted it off the wall.

Even as he touched the glass, nothing of Angel was reflected in it.

Gently setting it face down on the desk, he turned back to Wolverine. "I don't really like mirrors much."

He was still in shock from seeing no reflection. "Why won't you tell us about you? What are you hiding?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be hidden anymore," Angel answered simply. "Other than the knives, what can you do? You weren't born with the metal; how could you have been?" Angel walked towards the door, shutting off the light as they both began down the hall again.

Wolverine shook his head. "You answer a question, and I'll answer a question; how 'bout that?"

Angel shrugged. "All right... I like being mysterious, so start out easy."

Wolverine thought of a very simple question. "Where were you born?"

"Galway, Ireland," Angel answered happily. That was easy so far. "And you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Angel was a little confused, but accepted the answer.

"_When_ were you born?" Wolverine asked as they turned down another corridor, more towards the interior of the school. There were many doors on either side of the long hall.

"Not in this century," Angel answered jokingly.

Wolverine waited for a clear answer. "Well, you don't exactly look fifteen, so would you care to narrow it down?"

Angel sighed seeing that the guy wouldn't take a joke. "I'll pass."

"What do you mean 'pass'?" Wolverine pressed. He stopped walking, not accepting his answer.

"You didn't answer the first one."

Wolverine was very irritated. "I don't know anything of my life before about fifteen years ago," he confessed quickly. "There's my excuse. So tell me: why pass; how old _are_ you?"

Angel motioned for them to continue walking.

Wolverine began walking again, slowly, waiting for an answer.

"Let's see..." Angel began slowly, simply to bother the nosy one. He'd eventually answer, but wanted to have a bit of fun first.

Wolverine became annoyed by the stalling.

"If it's February 2015, that means I'm..." Angel began counting on his fingers, as though they'd cover it. After counting on one hand once, and half of the other before he stuffed his hands back in his coat pocket and answered cheerfully: "Two-hundred and eighty-eight; give or take a few months."

A bell suddenly sounded.

Angel stopped walking, waiting to see what was about to happen.

Several students pored out from almost all of the doors. Some began down the hall, and some others walked directly to other classroom doors.

"This _is_ a school. A bell sounds every hour for the classes to get out." Wolverine motioned for Angel to keep following him down the halls.

They continued walking as the rush of children began to disperse.

"How is that possible?" Wolverine asked.

"No, no, no; it's my turn. Where'd you get the knives?"

"Someone, I don't know who, put the metal over my skeleton, added the knives, and erased all my memories."

There was another turn, and at the end of the hall was a very large room. There were about two dozen students scattered throughout the elegantly furnished Recreation Room. Some played games, others sat talking, most watched television, and a few others were studding with friends at desks.

"All of these teen-agers are Mutants?" Angel asked directly.

Wolverine nodded.

This area was lit very well by both artificial lamp light and two large windows on the far end of the room.

Angel squinted as he scanned the room for Rogue.

She was sitting at the far wall on a couch, talking with several other students. They were seated directly in front of one of the large windows. Light pored down onto them.

Angel stepped a little further into the room. He was still surprised by what the future held for humanity. All of the students looked physically normal, but their scents were not human. He turned to Wolverine. "I'll be fine now, and I can find my way back to the room when I'm done."

Wolverine walked closer to Angel. "If you hurt her... I'll do more than stab you," he threatened in a whisper.

Angel turned to glare at Wolverine, but he had already turned away to walk down the hall.

The students around Rogue were quietly chattering.

Even from that distance, Angel could hear that most of the comments Rogue's friends were making were about him. He began walking slowly, careful to avoid the pools of natural light that were pouring in, and over to Rogue with her group.

Rogue's crowd wandered away to give her more privacy with the handsome stranger.

"Sit down," Rogue requested happily as he came close to her.

Angel went directly to the curtains, still careful around the natural light as he got closer to the window. He pilled the string, closing them quickly.

Rogue was a little confused by his actions.

Angel sat down next to her. "I wanted to thank you for trying to help me when the creature attacked."

Rogue smiled. "You did the same for me with that mugger, but you're welcome." She looked up at the curtains. "Why did you shut these? It's a beautiful day."

"It's a little bright outside for me today, so it wouldn't take very long for me to get a very bad burn," he answered quickly. "Besides, I left my sunglasses at home."

Rogue looked back at him, not believing his answer. "Is it part of your mutation?" she asked timidly.

He shook his head. "I'm not a Mutant."

"If I was able to touch your skin, and you lived through getting stabbed like that by Logan; that means you aren't a normal human," Rogue pointed out. "Then what are you?"

Angel considered what to say; he didn't owe her any explanations, but she wanted one. "I guess I was just lucky. The Doctor said I was dead, but a blood transfusion saved me from the morgue." He had taken the Doctor's words out of context, but that _was_ what she had said.

"Are you all right now?" Rogue asked worriedly.

Angel nodded. "I won't be staying very long."

Rogue still had a few questions. "If Logan hadn't stopped you, would you have killed that Mutant because it attacked you? Would you have hurt Logan, too, if he had tried to stop you some other way? And if I..."

"That wasn't a Mutant this morning," Angel interrupted to calm her worries. "It was a type of monster."

"Monster," Rogue spat back at him. "Is _that_ what it was?" She didn't believe him. "You're just a Pure man who makes any excuse to kill a Mutant; is that it?" she demanded, infuriated by his classification of that Mutant.

Some of the students began to stare at them.

Rogue got up quickly, not waiting for his answer.

Angel stood, wanting to stop her so he _could_ explain.

She stopped in the light of the other window, looking outside at the new, thin layer of white snow.

Angel stopped at the edge of the light. He couldn't follow, and it was almost painful for him to stand so close to even the _reflected_ sunlight. "Come back over to the couch, and I'll try to explain to you about what was happening."

She nodded. "Only if you tell me the truth."

Angel looked around.

Several students were staring at him with angry expressions.

A dark-skinned young woman with white hair walked over to them, turning to Rogue. "Is everything all right?"

Rogue turned around to the woman. "Yes, Miss Munroe. Everything if fine."

The woman turned to Angel, taking a step towards him, and holding out her hand. "My name is Ororo Munroe. Most people call me Storm. I teach History."

Her hand hadn't gone into the shade, so Angel couldn't accept the handshake.

"Miss Munroe?" Rogue called, allowing Angel to avoid the situation that would make him come off as rude.

She turned to her student, relaxing her arms back to her sides. "Yes?"

"Umm... What was the section, again, that you assigned today? I was with the Doctor during some of the class, so I think I must not have heard it," Rogue asked, still covering for Angel. She walked back over to the couch, into the shade next to Angel.

"Just read pages 145 - 160 in the text-book, and answer the questions from today's worksheet," Miss Munroe explained, following her into the shade.

Angel extended his hand. "I'm Angel."

She took his hand with a smile. "What brings you to our school? Are you a new instructor?"

Angel shook his head. "I'm not here for the school. I was attacked in the park this morning, and brought here by Wolverine and Rogue for some medical attention. I came here to thank Rogue."

"Are you all right?" Storm asked sympathetically.

Angel nodded. "I will be."

"I'll leave you to your conversation," Storm told them. "It was nice meeting you."

"And you," Angel replied, mimicking a cheery attitude.

Storm walked back over to the students she had been assisting at the desks.

"Why do they call her 'Storm'?" Angel asked Rogue quietly.

"She can control the weather," Rogue answered, also staying a little quiet.

"If we could go to the library, it would be easier for us to talk," Angel suggested.

Rogue nodded. "This way." She began to walk back towards the main hall.

Angel followed, continuing to avoid the light.

When they reached the hall, they walked side by side.

"Are there many windows in the library?" Angel asked, worried suddenly.

She nodded. "The library is pretty big, and on the east wall. That's the good thing about this building: they use natural light whenever possible.

"Yeah, great..." Angel whispered sarcastically. "Could you close the curtains for me before we get in there?"

"Sure," Rogue answered immediately. "I'll close up the first story, but your excuse is still kinda' weak: I forgot my sunglasses."

Angel nodded with a smile. "I've been trying to think of a better one."

They both smiled, stopping next to a set of big wooden door.

"Wait just a second," Rogue instructed, opening one of the doors.

Light poured out from inside as she ducked in.

Rogue began closing all of the curtains on the main floor.

Angel could see from the hall that the pools of light were disappearing. He opened the door, and walked into the library.

The library was three stories high with a very large assortment of books.

Rogue sat down in a chair behind one of the long tables.

Angel held up a finger to her, signifying for her to give him a moment. He went directly over to the occult section in the non-fiction: 133.33.

Rogue sat patiently waiting. "What are you looking for?"

"You have a good selection of old books here; I wanted to see if you have one that would help my explanation," Angel told her. The only person in the entire building he'd be willing to explain this to is Rogue.

The selection of occult books was more limited than it had initially appeared. He gave up. They didn't have the book on demons he had been looking for, though they did have several antique spell books. The next bet was the internet.

Angel went back over to her, not sitting down. "Is the Internet still around?"

Rogue nodded slowly, surprised by the question. The Internet had been around for longer than she'd been alive.

"Where are the computers?"

Rogue sighed, getting up. "The Computer Lab, and there are some with the net back in the Rec. Room."

"How 'bout the Computer Lab?" Angel suggested.

Rogue led the way. "There aren't any windows there."

-----------------------------------------------------

They walked into a smaller room. There were ten computers spread throughout the room.

"You can use that one," Rogue said, pointing to one that had a screen saver going.

Angel sat down behind the keyboard, pressing the spacebar. "Pull up a chair."

Rogue pulled a chair over next to Angel, and sat.

The screen came up. The desktop program wasn't Window's brand, and didn't appear to be a DOS based system, either.

"How do I..."

"I'll get it." Rogue pulled the keyboard closer to her, and she began to type some things in.

A new screen came up; one that Angel recognized as the standard internet menu.

"Ok, I can get it from here," he told her.

She pushed the board back over to him.

He used the mouse, highlighted the address bar, and typed in the new address.

'Demons, Demons, Demons' came up as the web-page title.

Rogue gestured to the screen. "This is what you were looking for?"

Angel nodded, typing some more commands.

'Dumas Assassin' came up onto the screen, complete with a pastel sketch.

Angel turned the screen towards her, so she could read it more easily. "That's what attacked me, and there's what it can do."

Rogue began to look it over. The picture was the same as the creature Angel had fought that morning. She read over it.

Angel brought the screen back to the home page. He noticed that the last time the demon site had been updated was May of 2004.

Rogue looked back at him, still nervous. "So that thing was a _real_ monster?"

Angel nodded. "Not to scare you too much, but all of those supernatural things are real: ghosts, witches, demons... just to name a few."

"Wow; real evil... So what does that make you?" she asked, still nervous about the topic.

Angel shrugged, and answered quickly. "I kill the _evil_ things... You know, I'm pretty tired. I should go back to my room." He got up.

"Can you find it? Do you want me to come along?" Rogue offered.

He shook his head. "I can find it... I'm leaving at sunset. I guess I _might_ see you later, but if I don't: it was nice meeting you." Angel went to the door.

Rogue stood stayed close to the computer they were using. "Yeah, it was nice meeting you, too."

Angel left.

Rogue quickly sat back down in front of the computer. She read the features of the Demon Homepage. One was 'Search by Characteristics.' She used the mouse to click on the different selections.

She answered all the questions using Angel as the basis. Under Special, the extra section, she typed 'Sunlight Burns.'

One creature came up: Vampire.

Rogue skimmed over the section.

Pressing print to print out the Vampire page, she went back to the monster page, and printed out the profile on the Assassin creature. She book-marked the site while she waited for the printout so she could get to it again.

She had to find Logan to see if Angel had told him anything about himself, and show what she had found. Rogue picked up the pages, got up, and left.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Knock, knock, knock, knock," came a quiet knock on Angel's door.

Angel was laying on the bed. He had taken off his coat, shoes, sweater, and belt so he could sleep more comfortably. All he kept on was his pants and a thin, white under shirt in case it would be required for him to leave the room quickly.

"Knock, knock, knock," it came again, a little louder.

Angel woke up, turned on the dim reading light, glanced at his watch (2:20 PM Feb 24, 2015), and opened the door, rubbing his eyes.

Rogue and Wolverine were standing there. Rogue was smiling shyly, and Wolverine, his arms folded tightly, looking a little angry.

"Can I help you?" Angel asked flatly, still drowsy.

"I tried to tell her that it wasn't our business, but she wouldn't let up..." Wolverine explained, giving an annoyed glance to Rogue.

Rogue smiled. "I'm just curious about you, so I used that site we were at. Since you said you weren't a Mutant, I typed in _your_ description, and..."

"You tried to find _me_ on that Demon site that I showed you?" Angel demanded, interrupting her.

Her smile faded. "I just..."

Angel held up his hand to stop her from going on. "I'm not going to tell any of you anymore. I'll be gone in a few hours, and I can promise that you'll never see me again. You shouldn't have wasted your time" Angel scolded.

She gave him the papers she'd printed out about Vampires, not letting up on what she wanted to ask.

He took the papers, surprised that she'd put the facts together at all. He was also a little surprised that she could have even thought that he was a vampire after how nicely he had been treating her.

"It says that Vampires only do selfish, evil things. I wanted to know why you seem to be different," Rogue explained.

Angel looked at her, confused by her fascination with him. "Why do you even care what I am?"

"I just do," Rogue answered right away. "Mutants are real and now Demons are real; now I want to know what else is possible. Science explains Mutants, but Demons are like something from fairytales. What other fairytales are real?"

Wolverine was surprised by her sudden interest, and by how well she could plead her case.

Angel was impressed. She wasn't scared at all, and she seemed to believe him completely.

"I see the proof of that creature last night being a Demon, and these papers say that you're a Vampire... Can you show me more?" Rogue asked, still trying to persuade him into telling more.

Angel gave a small smile.

Wolverine shook his head in disgust. _I can't believe Rogue's fallen for this guy and his story _he thought to himself. "I don't think any of these things you're saying is true," he explained to Angel. "I also don't trust you, so I'm staying with you both for her protection."

"I have to get my shoes on, and I'll meet you back at the library... I'll only stay here until sunset. Whatever has been said by then, is all I'm going to tell you," Angel told them. "I'll be there in about ten minutes." Angel shut the door. He opened it again, quickly. "Try to find a few candles; doesn't matter what color. See if we can get the room to ourselves, and close _all_ of the curtains."

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel came into the dark room. The only lights were a few small table-reading lights similar to the ones in his room.

Rogue and Wolverine were waiting at one of the tables. There were five white candles, and one package of matches.

Angel went back to the occult section, and picked three books from the shelf. He brought them back to the others. "I'll tell you about magic."

Rogue was smiling big, happy that things were going to be shown to her. "Can you tell me something else first?"

"What do you want to know?" Angel asked.

She smiled, "Well, I read about the other vampires on that internet page. You don't act like it said vampires do: only doing evil things. What makes you different?"

"I used to be that way. I hurt, and killed a lot of people..."

"Why did you change?" Rogue interrupted.

"I killed a Gypsy girl, and her family put a curse on me."

Rogue was intrigued. "What did the curse do?"

_Big explanation_ Angel thought to himself with a sigh. "When vampires are made, they loose their human souls. This lets them kill people without any remorse or any care what-so-ever. The soul was my conscience. The Gypsies gave that back to me; they restored my soul."

Wolverine was bored. He wasn't going to buy into the whole demon, vampire, and magic thing. The fact that Angel'd confessed to killing people made Wolverine dislike him even more.

Rogue gave a sympathetic look. "So you're a vampire, a kind of monster that kills to live, and you have free will with an intention to do, good just like a regular person?"

He nodded. "I feel guilt for every life I've ever taken."

"It said that vampires were ageless, so how long have you been alive? " Rogue asked, a little more shyly. "With a soul, and time without."

Angel did the math one more time in his head. Every time he was asked, or the subject was brought up, he had to check again to make sure he wasn't in the middle of a nightmare. "I was a normal human for twenty six years; as of this year, I've killed for a combined total of one hundred and sixty years, and have suffered for one hundred and two years."

Rogue was amazed by the number of years Angel claims to have lived. "Two hundred and..." She tried to do the numbers in her head, but she wasn't very good at math, and she couldn't keep track of the numbers.

"... eighty-eight," Angel finished for her.

Wolverine rolled his eyes. Rogue was still _completely_ buying the story.

"Have you ever read another language before?" Angel asked Rogue, changing the subject.

"A little bit of French back when I was in public high school, but that was only for one year," she told him shyly, still a little jarred by _her_ set of questions.

Angel picked up one book, and flipped through. The spells were written in many different languages: German, Greek, French, and a few ancient languages like Gaelic, Latin, and Egyptian.

He stopped at a French fire-starting spell. It was designed to create fire with the touch of a finger; a very useful survival spell. He sat the book down in front of her. "Take off your gloves."

Rogue scooted her chair a few inches further away from Logan, and slowly slid the long gloves off of her hands.

Angel picked up one of the candles, sitting it upright. "Are there fire alarms that are going to sound when we light these?"

Wolverine shook his head. "I went up to the Professor while Rogue found the candles and did the curtains. I told him we'd just be lighting a couple of candles, and that he shouldn't worry over a little smoke in here."

Angel looked back to Rogue. "This is a very simple spell. If you read it correctly, you'll be able to light the candle with the tip of your finger."

Wolverine laughed. "If you were a Mutant, you might be able to make that happen. When she did the spell, _you_ could make the fire."

Rogue nodded. "There's a boy I had in History class last year that could make things catch fire, and another boy, Bobby, can make things freeze."

Angel shrugged. "That's the simplest spell to show. Others need herbs or crystals and take more time... If you tried this spell after I left, it would work just as well."

"I'll try it now," Rogue said quickly.

Wolverine was a disgusted by her continuing faith in what he was trying to show her.

Rogue turned to Wolverine. "I don't think he's a Mutant."

Wolverine was still not accepting it.

She continued to try to convince him. "How many Mutants have you seen that have more than just two totally different abilities? Angel can heal, move fast, smell things like you can, and he can't go into sunlight... It seems like it would be impossible for him to do something with fire on top of that."

"Fine," Wolverine gave in before she could list anything else that was so great about this so called 'vampire.' "Do the... whatever it is."

Angel set up another candle in front of himself. "Ok... I know the Latin version from memory, so..." he began to look directly at the candle, and held his finger just above the wick.

Rogue eagerly watched, whereas Wolverine maintained his uninterested composure.

"_Prona maria, ego contingo numen. Volcanus, dator ignis, exardesco_ (Unobstructed, I take hold of the power of the gods. Vulcan, bringer of fire, be inflamed)." Angel quickly touched the tip of his finger to the wick of the candle. The candle fell to a pile of wax, the entire length of the now exposed wick was blazing with large flames.

Rogue and Wolverine gasped, shocked by the outcome.

"That was unexpected," Angel commented, just as surprised by the power of the spell as Wolverine and Rogue were.

Wolverine smiled at Angel's astonishment. "You didn't know that it was going to do anything, did you?"

Angel shook his head, loosing his shock. "I've done the spell before, just as I did now, and all it has ever done is light where I touched. In fact, last time it took more of the..." Angel quit the explanation, thinking about what Angelus would have had to do to gain such power.

"What were you going to say?" Rogue asked.

Angel shook his head, looking back at the still burning pile of candle. "_Volcanus, prenso ignis; extinguo_ (Vulcan, seize the flames; extinguish)," he ordered.

A swift breeze flew through the library. It put out the flame, blew around some loose papers, and rustled the curtains. The jarring of the curtains allowed a flash of natural light to enter the room.

Angel jerked a little, surprised, when the light touched his face and hand. A puff of smoke came from his exposed skin. He slowly looked back to Rogue and Wolverine. "I'm going back to my room." He got up and started for the door.

"But..." Rogue began to argue.

He turned back to her, stopping next to the door. "I'm sorry, but those books can tell you as much as I can, and the internet..."

"I don't speak Latin or German or really very much French. How can I read the books without your help?" Rogue protested.

Angel smiled. "This _is_ a school. Find out if some of your teachers would be willing to help you."

Rogue frowned a little. "Will you at least say good bye before you leave?"

He shook his head. "I have lots of people to find, and need to find them as fast as I can. None of you will even see me leave."

Angel began to walk out the door.

"Wait!" Rogue called, standing.

Angel stopped, turning back around.

Rogue turned back to Logan. "Do you think there is any way for us to help him find who he's looking for?"

Wolverine shrugged. "The Professor might be able to get..."

"I don't need any help," Angel interrupted. "I know where to start, and from there, technology and normal connections won't do anything for me."

"Are you sure?" Rogue asked, still wanting him to stay.

"Good bye," Angel said finally, and left.

-----------------------------------------------------

Sunset.

Angel walked down the hall of the school toward the main entrance. There was no need for him to be 'stealthy' as he left. No one but Rogue seemed to care weather or not he stayed.

He opened the door. It was still a little bright outside for his eyes, but the sun was down, removing the danger to his life.

"Angel," a man's voice called from close behind him.

Angel turned to see who called, allowing the door to shut as he stayed inside the building.

It was the Professor.

"Hey," Angel greeted flatly. Enthusiasm wasn't his greatest quality, especially under the circumstances.

"I wanted to tell you that a cab is on it's way to take you back into town," the Professor explained. "It should be here in just a few minutes... Shall we step outside?"

The door opened magically, and Angel stepped out. "Thank you; for the room, the ride, and the bandages."

The Professor followed him onto the front porch, letting the door shut behind them.

Angel looked around, squinting. The snow brightened the twilight, magnifying the remaining light of the day.

The Professor noticed his expression. "Is to too bright out here for you?"

He shock his head, hiding his weakness. "I'm fine."

The Professor sighed. "Rogue came to me a few hours ago. She told me about what had happened in the library this afternoon with the candle."

"And you want to know more about what happened?" Angel volunteered. "Or are you mad that I showed her something?"

"You didn't seem to know the magnitude of your own power," the Professor pointed out to him. "When you put out the candle, the strength of the wind ended up causing yourself to be injured by the sunlight. This leads me to believe that you can not fully control it, making you a danger to _yourself_ as well as others."

Angel shook his head. "I did a spell, it worked, and there's nothing else to it."

"How do you know that you will be able to control your next 'spell'?"

"I don't... I'll just stop invoking Gods with Latin incantations until I know for sure what went wrong," Angel assured quickly with a smile.

The cab turned down the long driveway to the school.

"Good bye, Angel. I hope you find who you're looking," the Professor commented, turning around. The door opened, and he went through.

"Yeah; bye."

The cab pulled up, and Angel got in.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel's Apartment

He pulled out his key, and unlocked the door.

Angel went in and straight over to the phone. He picked it up, wanting to call Buffy, but then stopped, hanging it up again. If he called Buffy's house, he wasn't sure what to say. He had no idea what sort of pain he might have caused for her over the past fourteen years.

For the six months after her 17th birthday that he had been evil, he had caused pain for Giles, nearly killed Xander and Willow several times, and fought Buffy at least once a week with the intent to kill, or at least torture, her... What could he have done to all of them in fourteen years? He killed Buffy's closest guy-friend, Xander; he knew that much.

He began to think of who else he could call: Giles might be able take a more diplomatic position if he called out of the blue with his strange story. Angel knew that Wesley wouldn't be living in the same low-cost apartment complex he had been, so that phone number would be useless. Cordelia might still be in her apartment, but she and Xander were so close... Cordelia would be able to believe him because she was there when Pallas used the magic.

Angel picked up the phone, and dialed the number to Cordelia's apartment.

Ring... Ring... Ring... "Hello?" came a woman's voice.

"Hi, can I speak to Cordelia Chase, please?"

"This is she. How may I help you?" she asked cheerfully.

"It's me," Angel told her, hoping she'd just recognize his voice as she had always been able to.

Cordelia was confused, and her joyful attitude faded. "_Who_ is this?"

"It's... it's Angel."

Cordelia couldn't form words. There was no way that the _real_ Angel could have come back; Angelus was all that was left.

"Don't hang up; let me explain," he proposed quickly.

"A-Angel?" she asked in a small voice, on the verge of tears. "H-How...?"

"The Sorcerer. It was the one that I was fighting on April 21, 2001; Pallas. A light hit me just before I chopped his staff in half. Then, the next thing I know, I'm in New York City, and it's my future. I don't remember anything after that day until just yesterday morning before sunrise."

Cordelia didn't know whether or not to believe him. She hoped it was true, but didn't know anything for sure.

"I have a Watcher's Diary. I read one passage from December of 2010; a little over four years ago... It said that Willow kept trying to restore my soul, and when it didn't work, they did it to Xander. Was I really the one who changed Xander?" Angel could hardly believe that he had killed Xander. Xander had always been a way to hurt Buffy when he was Angelus, but for him to keep _Xander_ alive for eternity would have bothered Angelus just as much as it would have Buffy.

Cordelia was still in shock. "Yes... you killed Xander."

"What happened, exactly, after the Sorcerer?"

"W-Wesley said that the Sorcerer had taken away your soul permanently, and that there would never be a way to get your soul back," Cordelia explained to him. "When the light faded, you..." she tried to remember exactly what had happened "... started to laugh, and you let the Sorcerer just walk away. None of us knew what was going on until you ran at Wesley, and slammed him into a wall. Then you slugged Gunn pretty hard... but didn't try to hurt me; you just laughed and walked away."

"Is Wesley all right? Is everyone all right?" Angel asked urgently.

Cordelia didn't answer.

"What happened? What did I do?" Angel pressed.

"You and Xander tortured Wesley, then Xander killed him when you told him to."

Angel was shocked.

"It was in the fall of 2003, and Xander tortured Wesley almost to death and you watched..." Cordelia's voice faded, silenced by tears. She swallowed the sadness to tell him the rest. "We were all at Giles house, trying to make a plan to find you. Both you and Xander brought Wesley to Giles' porch. You knocked on the door, and then you both ran across the street, watching as we answered. We could hear you laughing, but when we saw where you were, Buffy couldn't catch you. Wesley was trying to tell us everything that had happened, and where you were hiding, but he was hurt too badly. The paramedics couldn't save him."

Angel was shocked again by the news of what had happened. "Do you blame _me_?" he asked quietly.

"I blame Angelus," Cordelia assured quickly. "Maybe you just a little, too, for not getting out of the way of that magic."

"When did I leave California?"

Cordelia though for a moment. "I think Buffy chased you out in 2013 when you almost killed everyone in our town, not LA but little Sunnydale, with a spell. Buffy stopped the spell before it could be finished... I never thought I'd hear from you, I mean Angelus, again after that humiliation."

"I need to get back to LA, and find that Sorcerer, if he's still alive. He might know a spell I can perform to get me back to fourteen years ago so none of this had ever happened."

"I'm _not_ giving you an invitation until I see with my own eyes that you're not really twisted, old Angelus who finally wants to kill me," Cordelia told him suspiciously. "When do you think you can get to town?"

Angel thought a moment. He could try a spell. If his magical abilities had increased as much as he though they had, he could do the spell and be at her porch in less than an hour. "Sometime between an hour from now, and tomorrow morning I'll be on your porch."

"How could you get here in an hour?" Cordelia asked. "Flights are five hours and that's when you fly with the _good_ airlines."

"I might be able to find a spell."

"A-All right," Cordelia said, a little surprised by the suggestion. She gave a small laugh. "Just remember that it's three hours difference between here and New York City. Since the sun's not down yet, if in the next hour you were to materialize next to one of the palm trees in front of my building, don't forget to put on a lot of sunscreen..."

Angel gave a nervous chuckle, "I'll remember to be specific."

Cordelia smiled. "I hope it's really you, Angel. Have a safe... journey." She slowly hung up the phone. _Angel might actually be back_ she thought hopefully to herself.

"Bye." Angel hung up the phone.

After a moment of letting the news of Wesley's death sink in, he went over to the bookshelf and picked out all of the books on magic. He began to look for a teleportation spell.

-----------------------------------------------------

In a clearing, at the center of a dense grove of trees in Central Park, Angel set up his spell. He stood behind a pot of burning herbs. Purple candles were lit all around him, forming a large circle.

He recited the end of the spell as he threw in the last of the required herbs.

_Here to there,_

_Take me with care,_

_This journey I must quickly take,_

_For not mine, but other's sake._

_With the count of three,_

_As I say, So shall it be;_

_One... Two... Three..._

Angel disappeared in a burst of green flames.

-----------------------------------------------------

6:30 PM; Halliwell Household: In the Basement

The sisters had agreed to spend some time cleaning up their old house. Phoebe and Pru were downstairs folding towels, while Piper was upstairs dusting.

"You all ready have a degree from the last time you decided to go back to school. It's been over ten years since that graduation; why do you want to go back again?" Pru asked.

"I'm just taking a few classes this time, and I've been there for the first week of Winter Quarter; I'm staying for at least the rest of it. I need a little help with the Art Study course. I figured that with your whole antique background it _would_ be better then going to the library to learn something," Phoebe complimented.

Pru smiled, stacking some of the folded bath-towels. "I'd be happy to help."

"Great! We started a unit on Greek sculpturing yesterday."

"What I don't understand is why you would want to take Art Appreciation as an elective before that required..."

Phoebe froze, getting a premonition:

A man appearing in the middle of a sunny residential street... It was in front of their house... and he immediately ducked down, covering up with his long coat as though trying to shade himself. His coat began to smoke as he found the shade of a neighbor's house... Then it was over.

"What did you see?" Pru asked urgently, dropping the laundry she'd been holding.

Phoebe laid down the towel she had been holding before she answered. "There's a guy in front of the house, dressed all in black with a long coat, and he was _smoking_."

"A creepy guy with a cigarette doesn't exactly sound like the end of the world. Or do you think he was a warlock?" Pru asked her for more detail.

"He just appeared in the street. And he wasn't smoking _something_, he was just plain smoking. It looked like he was catching on fire or trying to put one out."

"Pru, Phoebe!" Piper called from upstairs.

The two who were downstairs ran up quickly and over to Piper.

Piper was by the window looking out. "I though I heard someone yell, and..." she pointed out the window to the dark figure in the shade across the street.

"And pouf?" Phoebe asked. "I just had a premonition of that guy dropping in."

"Any clue who, or what, he is?" Piper asked.

Phoebe shook her head, giving a sly smile. "We could go ask..."

Pru and Piper looked at her, shocked by the directness of her suggestion. They _always_ thought of some sort of strategy before going up against _any_ sort of potentially evil creature.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Come on! He could be the victim here. I mean, if he had anything to do with his sudden appearance, then why would he allow himself to be burnt... Besides, I got a pretty good look at him in the premonition, and he's kinda cute."

"Good point... About the victim part, I mean," Pru agreed.

Piper nodded. "Cute, or warlock, or victim, or whatever... he was definitely hurt, and it looked like it was the sunlight that he was running from."

"It could be a spell or something that's doing it to him," Phoebe commented.

"Or he could be a demon," Pru pointed out.

"Or still a warlock," Piper continued.

"Whatever the case... we should get over there and find out for sure before he tries to find a better cover."

They all went for the door.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel was covering himself as best he could with the long trench-coat he wore for just such occasions. He wasn't in direct light, though it was very bright for his eyes. Angel uncovered his eyes to see if he was very close to Cordelia's apartment.

None of the buildings seemed familiar to him. The sun was less than an hour from setting, so that told him that he's made it to somewhere _near_ California.

Most of his body was being shielded from the light by his coat with one covered hand. His right hand he was being used to shield his eyes from all the light. The unprotected skin stung from the light he _had_ been exposed to, as well as the glare he was still receiving from all the west-facing windows across the street.

Angel wasn't sure why the spell hadn't worked. His thoughts had been clearly focused on Cordelia's apartment in LA just as the spell required. Altered wording may have effected the outcome, but the non-spell commands he had given earlier that day happened as he'd wished...

Three women came out of the three-story Victorian house across the street, and began looking to him.

Angel looked at the women, squinting from the light and still shading his eyes with his right hand. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to explain to them what had just happened, or anything about what they may have seen.

They crossed the street.

"Questions first," Pru whispered to her two sisters.

They walked to him, stopping in the light a few steps in front of him.

"Hello. I'm Phoebe and this is Pru and Piper," she explained cheerfully, gesturing to her sisters. "We were just wondering what happened."

He didn't answer the question.

"Do you _know_ what happened?" Piper asked, remaining serious. "And can you give us your name?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know exactly...what went wrong, I mean. My name's Angel."

Phoebe smiled, a little taken by the handsomness of the stranger. "We know you caught fire in the sunlight, so our _biggest_ question is: _what_ are you? A warlock? A type of demon, maybe? A normal person with some type of curse? Jump in anytime you're ready to expand on _my_ theories."

"I..." Angel wasn't sure how to begin to say anything he was considering. "I... was trying to get to LA; where am I now?"

Phoebe nodded, loosing her smile. "So you're a warlock."

Angel shook his head quickly, still squinting a little. He took his hand away from his eyes, letting his arm fall to his side. "I was using magic, but I'm not exactly a warlock... Whatever you're so worried about; I won't hurt you. What time is it, and where am I?"

"You're in San Francisco, and it's..." Pru looked at her watch. "6:37."

"Great; thirty minutes," Angel whispered for himself.

"Excuse me?" Pru asked, confused by the comment.

"Thirty minutes until the sun goes down," Angel explained to them.

The three were a little confused.

"Why does that matter? What happens at sunset?" Piper asked, worried that some evil would manifest at sunset and ruin her dinner plans.

Angel could tell that these three wanted more than what he was willing to explain. "Daylight and me don't mix. At sunset, I can stop crouching in the shade, and get to LA."

"Why do you need to get to LA so badly?" Piper asked. She wouldn't let up until she knew if he was good, or evil.

"It's a long story..." Angel though again about exactly how the Demon had altered his possible history, and became very somber. "The short version: a Demon named Pallas used some powerful magic to do something. What he did caused the death of many innocent people and affected a countless number of lives. Now I have to try to get things back to the way they used to be, or at least _close_ to the way to the way they used to be..." His right hand began to smoke, and he jurked it away with hopes of escaping the bright reflection of sunlight.

The length of their conversation had allowed the sun to move a little further through the sky, causing more of a reflection toward him from one of the automobiles parked along the street.

"Can we possibly continue this inside your house; it's a little bright for me." Angel told them.

The girls exchanged glances as though considering weather or not to allow him into their house.

"You can come in. I think we might be able to help you," Phoebe mentioned.

"You're actually _inviting_ me, a complete stranger, into your house?"

"Yes," Phoebe answered. "We'll trust you until there's proof that your intentions aren't good. If we find that out, you'll be on the street again before you can even blink."Angel thought a moment about why they might actually be willing to help him, and what might be able to back up their threat. "Are you three witches?"

The three again exchanged glances before answering.

"Yes, we are Witches," Pru answered. "And what, exactly, does that make you?"

"I'll tell you more when we get inside," Angel assured, covering himself again with the coat. He ran for their house.

The sisters were amazed by his speed, and graceful sprinting up the steps. They were also amazed by the amount of smoke coming from his coat as he headed for the porch. They suddenly saw some flames rising from his right side, and then he began to run even faster.

Pru waved her hand, quickly opening the front door for the guest as the three hurried back to the house.

-----------------------------------------------------

They came into the house, and Angel was standing on the first platform of the staircase with his back to them. Where he stood was the darkest area on the first floor at that time of day. He was holding onto his right hand. They couldn't see his face.

Pru waved her hands, turning around the room. All of the curtains and blinds on the first floor began to close up tight at her command.

Angel didn't turn around, he just stood there, catching his breath from the painful sprint to the house.

"What's wrong?" Piper asked suspiciously.

"Did you get burnt again? We say some _big_ flames," Phoebe told him. "I could get you a bandage."

Angel sighed, still not turning around.

Pru waved her hands, spinning Angel around, and slamming his back very roughly against the back wall of the platform. She pinned his arms against the wall so he couldn't get free.

Angel let out a call of pain as his badly brunt hand hit the wall so hard. His face had transformed into a vampire from the pain of the flaming sunlight on his bare skin. The strength of the witch's magic continued to press his tender skin into the wall. Until he was released, the pain would be almost unbearable.

"I knew you seemed like a warlock," Piper commented.

"I'm not a warlock," he tried to convince, his teeth clenched and his breath short from the pain.

"Then how do you explain the good looks?" Phoebe asked. "Only warlocks can transform into looking like that."

"Are you going to explain anything, or do you think you're just going to leave in twenty minutes to get a rent-a-car?" Piper asked.

Angel shook his head slowly, trying to adjust to the pain. "If I tell you just about anything, you'll think I'm an evil killer; in which case, you could fry me just by rustling the curtains."

"What do you think we're thinking right now?" Pru asked, still restraining him.

A blue light suddenly developed behind the three sisters, and a young man appeared.

The three looked back, surprised.

It was Leo, their ex-white lighter and Piper's ex-husband.

Piper folded her arms as though mad. "Leo, what are you doing here? They assigned you to a different group of Witches."

"It's nice to see you, too," Leo replied sadly to Piper.

"I think it's great to see you, Leo" Phoebe commented, giving him a pat of the shoulder and a big smile. "It's been years."

Leo nodded towards Angel. "They sent me because of him." He turned to Pru. "Let him go."

"But he's a warlock," Pru protested.

"I'm not human, but I'm not a warlock," Angel tried to explain again.

Leo nodded. "It's the truth... Let him go."

Pru was still apprehensive, but lowered her hand, releasing Angel from her very powerful magic.

He took a step away from the wall. Finally able to look at his burnt hand, he examined it for a few moments, and then let his arms relax at his sides again. His face transformed back into human.

"I don't trust him." Piper waved her hand towards Angel, trying to freeze him so Leo could give an explanation.

Nothing happened.

The three sisters were surprised, but Leo remained calm, as though he'd expected nothing to happen.

Piper jurked both hands towards him; still nothing happened.

Angel raised his eyebrows, confused. "What?" he asked with a shrug.

"Why can't I freeze him?" Piper asked Leo frantically. "Is he one of those 'use your power on them, they get it' type of warlocks?" She looked over at Angel suspiciously.

Leo shook his head. "He's _not_ a warlock. He has magical powers, but now intends to use them for good."

"What's with the face changing if he's not a warlock?" Piper pressed Leo.

Leo looked to Angel, as though asking permission.

"And what do you mean 'now' and 'intends?'" Phoebe asked, also becoming suspicious of Angel. "_Was_ he evil, and somehow changed?"

"I was, but..." Angel began to answer, but then trailed off.

"...then his soul was restored," Leo finished for him.

Angel was shocked that Leo knew that about him.

"The time I had to kill that Alcatraz ghost, and my soul left my body, by body almost died. So how can a person ever be alive and walking around if they didn't have a soul?" Pru asked.

"I'm not," Angel answered right away.

The girls were confused again.

"Not what?" Pru asked .

"I'm not a _person_, and I'm not _actually_ alive."

"Then what are you?" Phoebe asked. "A ghost, vampire, zombie, demon, or what? I've read about them all, and met more than one ghost and demon."

Angel waited a few moments before answering. "Vampire."

Phoebe became a little scared. "The Book of Shadows says that Vampires are evil no matter what, and _very _dangerous."

Leo nodded. "Only when they don't have a soul, and Angel has one."

"Before me, it had never happened," Angel told them. He looked at Leo. "How did you know?"

"He's the equivalent of a guardian angel for witches," Phoebe explained to him. "If we're supposed to help someone or stop something, he shows up, gives us the info, and we do what has to be done."

"They _can_ help you, but for that, they need to _know_ you and why they can fully trust you. Is it all right if I tell them?" Leo asked politely.

Angel nodded slowly. "Pretty long story..."

"We can sit down in the livingroom," Phoebe suggested quickly. She liked to hear the biographies of cute strangers; human, ghost, deities, or otherwise.

They all went to the livingroom and sat.

"A little background: he was born in 1727 in Galway, Ireland. In 1753, he was changed into a Vampire. Being changed strips the body of a soul, removing the person's remorse. Vampires have to kill people by draining them of their blood in order to live, and not feeling bad about killing allows them to survive. In 1898, a group of Gypsies, a clan called the Kalderash, put a spell on him after he killed a well-loved member of their tribe. They gave him back his soul."

Piper nodded slowly, understanding what that really meant. "How many people have died to keep him alive?"

"Don't tell them," Angel asked softly, ashamed by the number. "Please."

"More than he can bear to count," Leo told them, looking over to Angel again. "Now he has free will like every other mortal, but because he's still a Vampire, he's almost starved himself to keep from hurting a person. In a way, he's two people: Angelus is the evil killer, and Angel is fighting to do good."

Pru began to think about what happened in Angel's life. "What's this business about getting to LA to undo a spell?"

Leo held up his finger, shaking it a bit. "That's where things get _really_ tricky. In 2001, he was trying to kill a demon named Pallas who used a magical staff. Angel was about to win when Pallas used some magic. Until about two days ago, all I'd heard about Angel is that the spell removed his soul forever. Between 2001 and 2010, some of his friends, human friends, tried to restore his soul again with the Gypsy curse and other forms of the same type of curse, but nothing worked. Then, just before dawn yesterday, he stopped himself from killing a girl Angelus had chose to be a morning snack."

Piper rolled her eyes. "I just love how you tell things."

_That_ Angel remembered: the girl from yesterday morning.

"What was the spell really for?" Phoebe asked. "If it didn't take his soul forever, that is."

"Angel managed to damage the staff before the spell had begun to work. It sent his _soul_ 14 years into Angelus's future. He doesn't remember anything after 2001's fight with Pallas."

"He's been killing people again for fourteen years?" Phoebe asked, almost in disbelief, looking to Angel. "And doesn't remember?"

Leo nodded.

"Do you know about the last fourteen years?" Angel asked Leo hopefully.

Leo nodded again. "I know almost everything about you."

"How did I increase my power?" Angel asked him.

Piper looked over at Angel. "What _is_ your power?"

"General magic and the elements," Leo answered Piper for him. "It's easy for him to control elements with spells, as he's found out in the past few hours. Angelus never even realized he had the powers, so no one has ever heard of, or seen, the full _range_ of his power." He looked back over to Angel. "You heard from Cordelia about the spell you did in Sunnydale?"

Angel nodded. "2013; Buffy and Willow stopped it from being finished."

"If Angelus had completed it, he would have been given supreme power."

"At what cost?" Pru asked.

"It required the life-force of every single creature living in that town; human, demon, and even all of the energy from the Hellmouth. That's why Angelus wanted it to be Sunnydale. The Hellmouth alone has the equivalent of over one million people's energy," Leo continued.

"Hellmouth? What's that?" Pru asked, having never heard of anything called that.

Phoebe answered, "The Book of Shadows says that it's a kind of magical gateway to Hell. Demons are drawn to them. If one opened, all different sorts of demons and creatures could escape."

"It opened once when I was in town," Angel told the girls. "A gigantic Hydra came out."

The sisters were impressed. It wasn't everyday that mythological creatures came up from a big crack in the ground that led to Hell.

"What were you doing while the thing was crawling out of the ground?" Piper asked, a little too confident that she'd found his bad side.

"I was helping one of Buffy's friends find her. It turned out that she'd drowned, and her friend did CPR. When she was back, we all went off to kill the Master, the very evil vampire who opened the Hellmouth. She sent us down to hold off the Master's helpers while she fought and killed the Master," Angel explained, using more words than he had in a while to explain something. "There were four people were fighting the Hydra, and they couldn't stop it. No one could have stopped all of the demons that would have come next. Thankfully, when the Master was dead, the Hellmouth closed, and the demons went back inside."

"Let's get back to the spell," Phoebe suggested, a little overwhelmed by that exciting little tidbit of history.

"Yeah. How did Buffy and Willow, is it?, stop Angelus from finishing the spell?" Pru asked.

"Buffy and the others had anticipated that Angelus would gain _some_ power before he could be stopped. She shattered a crystal amulet needed to direct the new powers to Angelus while Willow, a practicing witch, performed a spell to block whatever powers he had just acquired," Leo explained to them.

"It wasn't strong enough," Angel told them. "It must have worked long enough to get Angelus out of their town, but it's not doing anything now."

Leo nodded. "It was _very_ strong, and only wore off about a month ago. Angelus never realized that _his_ spell had worked at all, so he didn't notice anything different when the extra powers came. When you tried to light that candle this afternoon, it was the first time any of those powers had been used."

"Angelus never used the powers?" Angel asked for clarification. "That's a relief. Angelus could have whipped out the city by now."

Leo nodded. "He though he'd failed _completely_."

Angel examined his hand again. It _was_ healing, but the combination of the burns and the spell had really drained his strength. He was getting a little hungry. The only sort of nourishment he'd gotten was the blood transfusion over fourteen hours ago.

"Are you all right?" Phoebe asked him. "Do you need a bandage or anything?"

Angel relaxed his hands on the arms of the chair, looking back at the others. "That's all right; I'll be fine. It doesn't take me very long to heal." He looked to Leo again. "Is Xander still alive, so to speak? The Diary said that they thought he'd kill himself."

"He's still around, helping people the way you used to. Once you were gone, he could stay a little more focused. Buffy, Willow, and Anya helped him through it a little, and he managed to go on."

The girls felt a little out of the conversation. They didn't recognize many of the names as being discussed before.

Pru turned to Angel. "What was Buffy to you?"

"And who are Xander and Anya?" Phoebe added.

"Buffy is a Slayer, and has been since she was fourteen. She kills vampires, mainly, and demons. Most of her life will be devoted to stopping evil, even though she doesn't want it to be." Angel didn't want to get into anything about their relationship, but from the explanations Leo had been giving, he expected to hear it.

"Buffy and Angel had a relationship, but he left her so she'd have a chance at a normal love-life," Leo explained to the girls, looking specifically at Piper. He focused back on everyone to explain the rest. "Xander was a normal teen friend of Buffy's who helped her fight against evil while they were in high school together, and even after they graduated. His biggest addition to the fight was remaining a loyal friend to Buffy, no matter how much pain was in her life. Anya used to be a demon, but when her powers were stripped away, she was turned back into a mortal girl. She and Xander were a couple, but then, in December of 2001, Angelus..."

"...turned Xander into a vampire," Angel interrupted bitterly, finishing the explanation quickly. "Did I kill any other friends?"

"You'd have killed friends?" Phoebe asked him.

"And I did," Angel answered quickly, wanting answers for himself.

"Nothing mattered to Angelus except revenge on the people who were Angel's friends." Leo looked to Angel who was still waiting for his reply. "First, you changed Xander, then you both killed Wesley. You almost killed Willow, but she got away using some magic. You didn't kill the others."

Angel was relieved again, but in a way didn't want to know any more about this future. He looked around at the Witches. "How do you think you can help me?"

"The Book of Shadows might have a spell we can use, but it could be a while before we find anything useful in it," Phoebe explained. "The Book has gotten really, really big in the past few years."

The other sisters agreed.

"If there's no spell, his next bet would be his friends in LA and Sunnydale," Pru pointed out.

"I can bring him to LA," Leo volunteered. "Going straight to Sunnydale might not be taken too well by Buffy. This will give him time to figure out something. I can bring him back if you find anything useful in the Book."

"Sounds like a good plan," Piper backed.

They all stood, ready to get things going.

Leo walked over to Angel, and put a hand on Angel's shoulder. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Angel was a little confused by Leo's actions, but made no comment.

"See ya later," Phoebe said, with a quick wave as the three hurried up the stairs toward the attic.

Leo and Angel disappeared with a blue swirl of light.

-----------------------------------------------------

They reappeared outside of Cordelia's apartment.

"I'll come back for you if they find a spell," Leo told him. "Good luck on this end. You'll really need it."

Before Angel could think of something to say, Leo had disappeared again.

Angel turned to the door, now thinking about what he could say to Cordelia or any other former friend if they happened to answer the door.

He knocked on the door, very nervous.

The door opened.

It was Xander. He was wearing a black duster with a tight solid black shirt, black pants, and army boots.

Angel barely recognized the Xander who stood there with such a cold, cheerless expression. He was also dressed differently; almost exactly like Angel, except for the shoes. Xander also looked a little bulkier, more muscular, than before.

It finally registered in Xander's head that the person he hated most in the world was standing right in front of him. Xander drew back is fist quickly, and delivered Angel a very hard upper-cut punch to the jaw.

Angel was sent sailing down the hall and into the wall. His back hit very hard, and he fell to the floor.

"Xander!" Cordelia yelled in a scolding tone from inside as she hurried to the doorway. "We agreed that you'd let him talk before you started to attack him. It _could _be Angel."

"Angelus is here to stay," Xander tried to tell her. "Nothing got him back before. Why should it be different now? If Angel's soul were ever coming back, it would have been the first spell Willow tried a week after he was turned evil."

"Still, it could be," Cordelia stressed. "He wouldn't be here without a wooden stake for you if it were Angelus... You saw his expression when you answered the door. He hadn't expected to see you standing there. He didn't even recognize you, and the last time Angelus saw you was just over a year ago. Wasn't it Angelus who inspired your outfit in the first place, and that's been twelve years."

Xander shrugged. "Reflex." He looked at Angel, with pure anger in his eyes. "And I think it's about to happen again." Xander began towards Angel with the intention of giving a severe beating.

Angel sat up, dazed from the blow. His lip was bleeding from the strength of the hit. He saw Xander walking towards him, still angry. Angel was in no condition for another fight. He was still sore from Roach and Wolverine, the flames, the blow he'd just been delt, and exhausted by the travel spell on top of that. Angel held his hand towards Xander's boots, thinking of a spell. "_Revicio, __glacialis__fundo_ (Bind fast, frozen secure)."

Xander stopped walking, suddenly unable to lift his boots.

Ice was creeping up from the soles. It stopped once it had grown up over the laces and nearly covered the entire leg of the boot.

Xander was surprised, and became a little scared. He wouldn't be able to stop him from hurting Cordelia if he couldn't move, and Angelus would be able to kill him more easily.

Angel got up slowly, rubbing his jaw, and taking a quick glance at his still burnt hand. His head felt light from hunger, and ever more of a drain on his energy. He looked over at Xander, still a little surprised that it _was_ Xander at all. The expression held no emotion but hatred. The Xander he knew was never so serious. If the old Xander tried to be serious, he'd make a joke.

"Angel?" Cordelia asked, walking a few steps out from the door, so they could see each other...

Angel looked to Cordelia. She was wearing very plain clothes, compared to the outfits she had worn all the times Angel had ever seen her. Her hair was a little shorter than it had been; just below her ears. It was down and a little wavy as though she'd gotten a slight perm. "It's good to see you," he told her, completely depressed about the whole situation of this world.

"Xander took over about a year ago with what you used to do; Demon Fighting-PI," she explained to him. "He has a right to be angry at Angelus, but now we're going to behave ourselves, so please let him go."

Angel nodded a little, waving a hand back towards the floor. "_Exsolvo_ (release)." He felt a wave of dizziness, and caught himself with a hand on the wall.

The ice melted almost instantly.

Xander steadied his stance, letting his arms hang at his sides in fists as though he were still prepared for a fight.

"I said for us to 'behave,' Xander," Cordelia protested.

Xander didn't relax, or move at all. He just glared at Angel, considering whether or not to trust him even if it wasn't Angelus. _If he's completely good, then why does he have magical powers?_ he asked himself.

Cordelia walked over to Xander, and tugged on the sleeve of his coat.

He allowed himself to be turned to face her.

"Angelus... I mean Angel... froze you where you stood. If he were the evil version, he could have probably done something a lot worse: maybe turned you into a block of ice, or something more extreme," she tried to explain to him.

"I could have used fire," Angel added. "It was the spell Angelus did in 2013 back in Sunnydale. It gave him more luck with regular spells, and control over elements: fire, ice, wind... maybe other parts... I'm not really sure."

Cordelia looked at him quickly. "You said that you didn't remember anything."

"I tried to get here with a spell, and ended up in front of some house in San Francisco. I met three witches, and some type of magical being named Leo who knew everything about me; even what I didn't know about myself. I asked and he told me a few things that happened," Angel explained.

"What else did he tell you?" Xander asked suspiciously.

Angel was going around in circles with every person he talked to wanting details. "I asked how I got stronger with magic; if you were alive, Xander; if I'd killed anyone else that I cared about besides you and Wesley; and how the witches thought they could help. Leo's coming back for me if the witches find a spell."

"What more are you trying to do with magic?" Xander asked, still not acting very motivated.

"I'm going to try to get back to stop myself from getting hit with that staff fourteen years ago. That way none of this ever happens," Angel explained. "That's the only thing I think can be done in this case."

Xander hoped that was the truth. "Why didn't you call Willow or Giles? They're the ones into magic. Why'd you choose Cordelia?"

"I thought she'd be able to accept the truth, and back me up on it in Sunnydale. If I'm right: my showing up in Sunnydale with no proof that my story my story is true, would end up with me in an ashtray courtesy of Buffy," Angel told them bluntly.

Cordelia still didn't know if she believed him. She thought up a few questions. "I'm gonna give you a little quiz. I'll say a name, and you tell me the first thing that pops into mind about them, or how you feel about them; but only the first, not what you might have heard recently from that Leo guy, the book, or me."

"All right," Angel agreed.

"Doyle?"

"I miss him."

"Wesley?"

"Dependable friend, very intelligent... And I heard that Xander and I killed him."

"Riley?" Xander asked.

Angel snuffed at that one. He thought so many things about that guy just by hearing his name. "Uptight, untrusting, overly protective, irrational, judging, very egotistical, straight-laced, suck-up, was part of some branch of the military who studied demons, and dated Buffy..."

Cordelia nodded, believing that it would be an Angel-ish answer out of jealousy.

"And so jealous of what Buffy and I had that he finally left her because he thought he was still competing with me," Angel added.

"What about Tara?"

Angel shrugged. "I've never met her. Willow might have mentioned her once, but I'm not sure... Her name seems familiar."

"Anya?" Xander asked.

Angel had to consider it a moment. "Straightforward ex-demon who was your girlfriend. I think I only met her once: the time I came back to Sunnydale to help with the Indian spirits."

"Spike?" Cordelia asked.

"Annoying, evil thing who can't bite because of a chip in his head, and won't stop whining about Drusilla."

"Ashley?" Xander threw in quickly, trying to get his subconscious to reveal if he was lying.

Angel was confused. "I've never heard the name before. Who is she, or he?"

Cordelia shook her head. "We'll just keep going."

"Oz?" Xander asked.

"A man, and werewolf, of few words... He left Willow with a broken heart..."

"Gunn," Cordelia finally said.

"A loyal warrior for good... I haven't heard anything new about him," Angel told them, a little worried about the welfare of his demon-hunting friend.

Cordelia and Xander looked at eachother as though considering whether or not to trust him. Angel had answered each question very quickly, as though not having to recall the details from so long ago.

"Any one else?" Angel asked.

Cordelia shook her head. "That's all... The 'Riley' question pretty much sealed it. I believe your story."

"Why?" Angel asked, confused by her reasoning. "Angelus might have hated Riley just as much."

Cordelia agreed quickly. "He did for a while. The only thing is: Riley came back and kinda snapped to being evil two years ago and he helped Angelus do the spell in Sunnydale. He was arrested for attempted murder a few weeks later, and put in the loony bin."

Xander was confused, but played along with whatever Cordelia was trying to pull. "He even took me on without a piece of wood when Buffy was trying to get a hold of the gem you were chanting over..."

Angel was shocked. Riley _had_ seemed so stable, no matter how annoying. "Wow..." Angel commented, rubbing the back of his head. He was a little ashamed that he'd just named off so many bad qualities about a person who was no longer mentally sound. "What sent him over the edge?"

"Buffy broke up with him," Cordelia explained, still lying to get his reaction.

Angel was surprised again, but also a little glad. "The first year I left, and came back to town to apologize to Buffy he tried to kill me, even after Buffy told him I wasn't evil. I said that she needed someone who would trust her. When he didn't trust her, I knew that he wasn't right for her... Still... They tried to make it..."

Cordelia gave a big smile. "Maybe I should have been an actress instead of a life-long secretary to two generations of cursed vampires."

Xander, realizing she was ending the hoax, also smiled. He liked that he'd been in on a trick that was able to fool Angel, weather he be good or evil.

Angel was confused. "Excuse me?"

Cordelia continued to smile, and rushed towards Angel giving a big hug.

This surprised Angel, but he accepted it.

It had been a while since she'd wanted to hug him. She backed away to explain. "Nothing about Riley was true."

Angel was a little annoyed that she'd lied to him. "Then why'd you lie about it?"

"Because since it would have just happened two years ago, you'd have believed the story being Angel, or totally _pretended_ to buy the story if you were Angelus. Either Angelus deserves an Emmy or _you're_ telling the truth..."

"Angelus can't act very well," Xander pointed out quietly, returning to the somber attitude. "I saw him try more than once."

Cordelia gave an annoyed glance at Xander, then cheerfully turned back to Angel. "Let's continue this inside."

Angel nodded a little.

They all walked back to the door.

As Angel tried to pass the threshold, he was unable to.

Xander and Cordelia hadn't even noticed, and were still on their way to the couch.

"I need more than a suggestion," Angel called, always embarrassed when requesting an invitation from a friend. "Usually..."

The door suddenly slammed shut.

"Denis," Cordelia scolded, turning around in a circle as though expecting to see the ghost manifested. She'd be willing to rationalize with the overprotective spirit. "Let Angel in. It's not the evil one anymore; he's back to plain, good Angel. I know you knew the bad one longer then the good, but it's really the good one outside."

Angel tried the knob. It wouldn't turn as though it were locked. He knocked on the door, knowing it was Denis that had not allowed him to enter. "Denis? It's Angel. I won't hurt, or try to hurt, either of them. Whatever I did before happened because of a spell Pallas did. You know who I'm talking about: the demon who used magic. I'm back now."

The door opened again, slowly.

Angel walked in, and over to the others.

"We'll wait until sunset, and then we'll drive back to Sunnydale," Xander decided.

The other two nodded a little in agreement with no verbal reply.

"What happened to Gunn?" Angel asked, worried by the possibilities.

Cordelia shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. When you went evil, he decided to try the demon-hunting gig back on the streets, like he'd been doing before you met him... I haven't heard from him since."

Everyone just stood quietly for a few seconds.

"This is awkward," Xander commented straightforwardly, folding his arms.

The other two nodded again, still giving no verbal reply.

"I'm going to make myself some dinner. Would either of you care for a drink?" Cordelia asked, happy to be hostess to more than just one friend and a ghost.

They were both shy about it, and didn't answer, thought both of their voiced answers would have been yes.

"O...k..." Cordelia said, noting more tension than before. She went into the kitchen, and began to prepare some Ramen noodles.

Xander sat down quietly at the left end of the couch.

Angel sat down in a new armchair beside the lamp; the furthest seat from Xander.

Cordelia turned on the stove to boil her water, and grabbed two cartons of blood from the frige. She walked them into the livingroom, handing one to Xander and one to Angel.

They were both reluctant at taking them, but they did.

Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "I've told you both this before: don't worry about grossing me out." She turned to Angel. "We were like family once; we still are. Sure, I only helped you for a couple years, and knew you for five years as yourself, but you saved my life so many times..." She turned to Xander to encourage him. "I've known you since we were six and I bullied you on the playground. Our _romance_ failed, but it doesn't change how much you're a needed factor in my life..."

Neither had made a move to start drinking.

She looked back and forth between the two of them, still waiting. "Now eat!"

They were both shocked by her little outburst. She wasn't usually so demanding. They did as they were told, and opened the lids.

Cordelia sat down next to Xander on the couch, between the two vampires.

Angel watched Xander as he took a sip, and his face changed into a vampire.

Xander looked off to the side, away from both Cordelia and Angel as though shy about the physical change. "What?" he asked, realizing he was being stared at. Xander turned back to Angel for the answer.

Angel looked down, embarrassed by his reasoning. "It's still a little hard for me to believe... I just had never pictured you as a vampire," he answered truthfully, looking back.

"Neither had I," Xander replied, taking another sip from the carton. "I'd have never had to if you hadn't killed me."

Cordelia gave Xander a pat on the leg. "That was Angelus, not the guy over there."

"No, Cordelia, it was that guy," Xander yelled, becoming agitated. "As Angel or Angelus, he would have wanted to see me dead, but to Angelus, death wasn't good enough." Xander put his drink down on the coffee table. He stormed into the kitchen.

Angel put the lid back on his drink, too, sat it by the lamp, and followed Xander to the kitchen.

Cordelia, worried about what the two vampires might try to do to each other, got up too. "Xander, calm down."

Xander turned back around to argue with Angel and Cordelia. His face had returned to human in those few moments of thought. "Why should I calm down!? He took everything away from me!"

Angel lowered his head for a moment, ashamed of the horror Angelus must have put him through. He looked back up slowly. "I don't know what happened, but I never wanted you dead; I never wanted to see you in _real_ pain. You always kinda' bugged me, but it was nothing serious; it was petty."

"Angelus must not have thought so," Xander commented, becoming a little more calm. "Whoever you got the info from: did they tell you what you did to me _before_ you changed me?"

Angel shook his head. "He didn't tell me much."

"Xander, don't do this to yourself," Cordelia begged him.

"When you came for me, you got my dad to invite you in, and you snapped his neck. Then, you hit my mom so hard... it almost killed her," Xander explained. "You dragged me out of the house right past their bodies before you knocked me out. You let me think they were both dead..."

Angel was becoming more, and more depressed. That was exactly the type of thing Angelus would do. He had killed both of Drusilla's parents before he'd changed her, and that was more to frighten her than to truely torture her.

Xander stared blankly, looking a little past both Cordelia and Angel as he remember what had happened from there.

"I woke up in chains next to my mother. She was weak, and in sort of a daze. I grabbed onto her hand and tried to tell her everything would be all right. She had a big cut on her forehead, and there was so much blood. Then I saw you..."

-----------------------------------------------------

_::Flashback:: July 14, 2001_

Angelus's vampire face lit up in the darkness as he struck a match, and brought it to a candle. The wick caught, and he shook the flame out of the match stick.

"Do you have any idea what Buffy is going to do to you when she finds out that you've taken me?" Xander asked him bravely. "You'll be dust."

Angelus laughed. "She won't care anything about you once I'm done."

"Xander...?" his mom called softly. "Who is that talking? I've never... seen him..." her voice faded as she became weaker.

"Shhh," Xander told his mom quietly, squeezing her hand tighter. "Save your strength. I'm going to get you to the hospital."

"No," Angelus corrected with an even bigger smile, and another little laugh. "You're _really_ not." Angelus walked over to them, stopping in front of Xander. "The closest _you'll_ get her to a hospital is the morgue."

Xander was terrified, but wanted to act brave. "Let her go. She has nothing to do with Buffy and the fighting."

"Yes she does... She's your mother." Angelus suddenly rushed at Xander, grabbing him under the jaw, pinning him against the wall. "Soon, she'll be your dead mother, and guess who's gonna do it?"

Xander struggled to escape Angelus's grip, but without success.

He bent down, and bit Xander on the neck, draining his blood.

Xander began to go limp as he was being killed.

Angelus let him go, barely alive. He picked up a jagged stone, and slit open his own wrist. When blood began to flow, he brought it to Xander's mouth.

Xander didn't want to, but couldn't stop from drinking it.

After a few moments, Angelus pulled his wrist away.

Xander fell against the wall, dead.

Xander's mother was too disoriented to even realize her son was laying dead beside her.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

Xander opened his eyes.

Angelus, now wearing a human face, was still in the cell, standing next to the nearly burnt-out candle.

Xander was still holding onto his mother's hand. He threw it down, stretching his unchained arms into the air.

"How do you feel?" Angelus asked with a smile. "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"Xander..." his mom called softly. "Are... you awake?"

Angelus continued to smile. "You should think of her as an appetizer. There's not much left. Such a waste..."

Xander smelled the air, smiling. "It smells so good..." His face changed into a vampire, as he relaxed, and drew in a little closer to his mother. "Yeah, mom, I'm awake," he whispered to her, brushing a blood-soaked lock of hair away from her eyes.

"I'm so... tired," she confessed softly.

"Then it's time for you to rest." Xander slowly leaned down, and bit her neck.

It only took a few moments for him to drain all of the blood from within her. She'd lost far too much from Angelus's attack to make much of a meal for a freshly made vampire.

Xander released her.

Her lifeless body slid down the cement wall to the floor.

Xander whipped the rest of the blood off of his mouth with his sleeve, his face changing back to human. "You're right: she didn't make a very satisfying meal, but I still feel amazing." He jumped to his feet energetically. "So, what's next, Teach?"

Angelus laughed. "How 'bout Buffy?"

Xander let out a very loud laugh. "Good one." He became very serious suddenly. "I'm not as dumb as I always look. I go against Buffy, and I'm dust before I get an invite to her room. Teach me how to fight, help me find some better clothes, _then _we can start talking about Buffy and the others."

Angelus nodded, still smiling even though his suggestion had been disobeyed. He was suddenly happy that Xander was a _smart_ vampire. He was much smarter as a vampire than as a human. The others he had used to torture Buffy had been too willing to die a quick death. Xander, on the other hand, would be a useful tool. "I think you _will _make a fine student. But that wardrobe..." Angelus shook his head.

Xander held out his arms, gesturing to his clothing. "I'm thinking: black, or at least a solid color. My shirt looks like it was decorated by a food fight."

They both laughed at the comment.

Angelus walked over to Xander, putting his arm around his shoulder. "I think this will be fun."

They both walked out of the cell.

-----------------------------------------------------

::Present::

Xander went over to the stove, and opened the package of Ramen, dropping the block of noodles into the boiling water.

"Thanks," Cordelia told him, still in shock from the details.

"I haven't even _mentioned_ what you put me through the night my soul was restored."

"And you don't have to," Cordelia told him again. "When we get this right, when Angel doesn't get hit by the staff, this won't have happened, and you'll be alive again, and none of these things will have happened."

Xander nodded, turning back to Angel. "You taught me how to defend myself, how to fight, how to kill, and how to torture my friends until they _wanted_ to die."

"That's all that was important to Angelus," Angel explained. "Pain."

"Maybe I _should_ talk about that night," Xander considered out loud.

"No you should not," Cordelia ordered again. "You've never told anyone, so it must be _very_ depressing, and hard for you to stand remembering."

Xander turned to Cordelia. "That's my life: depressing. I was a looser as a human, a killer as a regular vampire, and now every memory I have of my existence makes me regret ever being born." He went back into the livingroom, and over to where he had been sitting on the couch.

The other two followed, sitting where they had before going to the kitchen.

Xander looked at both of them. "Did you ever think that the whole point of storming away was to be away? Maybe I should leave the house for privacy... No, wait!" he shouted sarcastically, "I'd burst into flames and end up in Hell for the thousands of people I've killed."

Angel nodded. "You're doing the right thing now, and I know it's hard to live with the guilt, but dying..."

"No... How many people did you kill after your soul was restored?" Xander interrupted.

"None. I almost killed one once, but I've also nearly starved to avoid it," Angel answered truthfully.

Xander gave a little chuckle, turning away from him again. "I have... She was a completely innocent, young girl, and she died so I could live on as a killer." He looked directly at Angel. "It was because of Angelus."

Cordelia was shocked. "That's what happened? That's why you never talked about why it was nearly a week before you showed up at Giles'?"

Xander nodded a little, looking back to them as he remembered. "Angelus locked me in that same cell again when he realized I'd gotten my soul. Just before sunrise, when I was starting to get hungry, he found a teen-aged girl in the neighborhood and tossed her into a cell with me...

-----------------------------------------------------

_::Flashback::_

Wednesday; December 8, 2010; 6:45 AM

Xander was sitting on the floor of the cell. He was dressed all in army boots, an unbuttoned black shirt with a white cotton undershirt and new black jeans. Both of his hands were cuffed to chains, connecting each arm to the wall with aproximatly four foor of slack chain for movement. His leather duster lay beside him on the floor.

Angelus opened the cage, shoving a young, blond-haired girl into the cell. The girl looked a little like the way Buffy had when Angel had first seen her sitting outside of her high school in Los Angeles.

Bell pressed herself into the stone cornor of the cage, as far from the other prisoner as possible. The boy was chained up, but she didn't know who she'd be able to trust. Angelus had seemed nice, but ended up locking her in a cold prison cell without her coat.

Angelus stood outside the cell, looking at his two prisoners with a smile. "This is how it's gonna work, Xan," he announced. "When you've killed this girl, I'll let you go. If she dies from fear, kills herself, or dies without _you_ having anything to do with it, that doesn't count for you, and I'll find you another girl to kill. The other option is you for you to starve... but I'm not going to let that happen. I'm going to make sure that you want her blood..."

"Why are you doing this?" Xander asked, sitting in the other stone corner with his arms on top of his bent knees. "You've already destroyed my life."

Angelus smiled. "Not nearly enough... Here's a pleasant though to hold while you're in that cell, trying not to kill little Bell: your mother in that same cell bleeding when you killed her ..."

"Shut up!" Xander yelled, lowering his head in shame.

"All right. I'll come back tomorrow night... Oh, and, mind the sunlight," Angelus warned, gesturing to the small east-facing window on the wall opposite of the cage. "I wouldn't want you to get a sunburn. That might make you weak enough to kill the poor, little girl..." Angelus slowly walked out of the room, down some stairs, and to another portion of his lair.

Xander looked over at the girl.

She was shivering, and looked over to him. "A-Are you r-really going to kill me?"

Xander shook his head, letting it fall against the wall with a sigh. "I don't know... I might, but I don't want to."

"Why 'might' you kill me?" Bell asked, rubbing her arms as she tried to stay warm. "Is it because Angelus will let you go if you kill me?"

Xander shook his head again, looking back to her. "I'm a monster." He had tears in his eyes. He was young, and wasn't sure how long he'd be able to resist taking her blood.

"You don't seem like a willing one," Bell commented.

Xander could tell that she was getting very cold. The stone would probably be colder than the outside temperature. Maybe around 40 degrees, if she was very lucky. He picked up the long, leather coat, and tossed it to her.

She took it, and put it on quickly.

"You've got that right..." Xander told her. He didn't want anymore people to die for him. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," she answered. "And you?"

Xander shrugged. He'd never considered the math. "Around thirty."

"You don't look even close to that. I'd have said twenty, max."

He nodded a little. "I'd have been twenty-one the year _I_ died." Xander looked at the window. The sun was about to rise. That gave him ten minutes before the sun would come through the window.

"Living dead?" she asked.

Xander nodded.

"I told my parents that Sunnydale had weird people here," Bell confessed. "And that I wanted to move."

"I grew up here," Xander explained. "I used to help someone who killed all the monsters, until Angelus turned me into one. The change took my soul, and I killed so many people without caring..." His voice trailed off. He could remember _every_ person he'd killed, and could hardly believe that he'd done it for pleasure.

Bell was becoming curious. "Then why would it matter to you if I died?"

"I have my soul again, and I don't want to kill anything but..." He trailed off again, catching the strong scent of her spilt blood.

"But you're still the undead, so to live, you need to kill," Bell continued, as though she understood completely.

Xander was a little surprised that she'd been able to follow the story, but was getting very hungry. He looked at his watch, noticing that his soul had returned almost twenty hours ago, which meant he hadn't eaten for at least twenty four hours. He let his head rest against the wall again. The more energy he used for anything, the less time Bell would have.

"What's the matter?" Bell asked, sympathetic of _his_ situation.

Xander looked at her again, sluggishly. "Everything..." He was very tired; emotionally and physically exhausted.

"We'll be here a while, so we may as well talk."

"Do you have a clue of exactly what I am?"

Bell shook her head.

"A vampire. Just like the ones from fairy-tales. The sun comes up in a few minutes and it can kill me. Plus, I haven't eaten in twenty hours, and just like with humans, that's a long time to go without eating," Xander rambled off quickly.

"Vampire...?" Bell asked in a small voice, becoming scared of him again.

Xander nodded with a sigh, still looking at her. "A monster and a killer." Suddenly, all he could think about were the faces of all of his victims... Over three thousand had died; counting his own mother and Wesley.

"You're not acting like a monster _now_ and you said you don't want to kill, so technically, you're _no longer_ a killer," Bell explained with a small smile, hoping to cheer her extremely gloomy cell-mate.

"I _am_ a killer. Right now, my pain would go away if I just gave in, and killed you," Xander confessed, becoming angry with himself. "But I don't want anyone else to die. If I don't kill you, Angelus will... I don't want to die, but I can't live like this... "

Bell was silenced by that comment.

"I guess you're lucky that I'm chained up..."

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

Xander moved as far around the cell as he could for the early part of the day to avoid the sunlight. At one point, he and Bell were very close to eachother, at which time Xander asked Bell to protect herself in the sunlight.

By around 11 AM, the sun was no longer coming through the window. After that, he had returned to his own little corner.

Nothing eventful happened throughout the following day.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

Saturday 3 AM

Xander felt weak and a little dizzy. Bell had been sleeping peacefully for the past five hours while Xander had been too depressed and distracted by her presence to do anything but sit and think.

Angelus came into the room silently, looking more serious than usual. He crouched down in front of Xander's side of the cage. "She's not getting out of here," he whispered. "You may as well save _yourself_ some time, and just tare her pretty little throat out."

"I won't hurt her," Xander whispered back, a little scared of what Angelus might do to him for his defiance. "No matter what you say... I won't."

"What if I was to _do_ something?"

Xander was a little confused by the question.

Angelus pulled a hunting knife from his belt.

"Do whatever you want to me, but the answer's still: no, I won't hurt her," Xander told him bravely.

Angelus laughed very quietly at the suggestion, not wishing to wake Bell. "I wasn't going to use this on you..." He stood, casually strolling towards Bell's side of the cage.

Bell had her back against the outer bars, still sleeping.

"Bell!" Xander called, quickly getting to his feet to protect her from Angelus.

Before Bell could react to the warning, Angelus thrust the knife into her left shoulder. She let out a shrill scream of pain, reaching out for his help.

Xander stretched the chains to its limit and grabbed her outstretched hand, pulling her to her feet with one hand and to the inner wall. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, covering the injury. The duster she had been using as a blanket fell to the floor.

Angelus had held onto the knife, allowing it to be pulled from her back upon escape. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to be able to defend herself against Xander.

She was crying softly, but overcome from the shock of the injury. Blood was flowing quickly from the deep wound. If she didn't get a bandage, she might bleed to death.

The site and scent of Bell's blood was overwhelming Xander's senses. Xander let go of her and backed away, retreating to the furthest corner of the cell. He couldn't get out; he couldn't get near her; he couldn't control himself. Xander slid down the bars to the floor of the cell, curling up, hiding his face as he tried to resist what he was feeling.

Angelus laughed again, proud of his accomplishment. He knew that Xander wouldn't last long at that rate. Xander, as a human, had always been very weak. At sunrise, Xander would have to move closer and closer to Bell. By the way Xander looked, another foot closer, and he'd attack the girl.

Bell glared at Angelus, as she cradled her injured arm. "Why did you choose _me_ out of all of the people in this town to attack? There must have been more than a few students up and about hanging around in the park. That's where I was headed. Why not one of them?"

Angelus became very serious. "You look like someone Xander used to have a crush on..." He turned towards Xander. "Doesn't she?"

Xander didn't answer. It was true, though, she looked very much like Buffy had on her first day at Sunnydale High School.

Angelus turned back to Bell. "He's still a little bitter that I swept her off her feet while all he was doing was making jokes and small talk... Buffy never went for losers."

Bell huffed. "Then why did she choose you, again? You seem like a pretty _big_ looser compared to Xander."

Angelus was no longer amused by Bell. She was treating him exactly how Buffy would be treating him. Buffy liked Angel, not Angelus. He strolled back over towards Xander. "What'er ya just sitting there for? Can't you see this poor, little girl needs you to help her stop bleeding?" he asked in a cotteling voice.

He looked up at Angelus. Xander's face had changed into a vampire. "You still can't make me kill her."

Angelus shrugged with another smile. "I got you one step closer, now, didn't I?" He became serious again. "This is a real test of your self control: if you don't help her, it's entirely possible that she will bleed to death, or come very close... _Or_ you could kill her fast, and save that whole '_I'm soooo sorry_' thing for later."

Xander continued to glare at Angelus. There was no way for him to get out of the cell except at the cost of yet another life. He couldn't even fight his way out. If Angelus opened the cage and took off the chains, _he_ might get out, but then Angelus would kill Bell. There was no escape for that girl, even if Xander could avoid killing her himself.

"What is this? A staring contest?" Angelus asked him, turning to leave. "Kill her now or help her to live another few hours... Make your choice. I have better things to watch." He left in a very cheery mood.

Xander laid his head back down on top of his folded arms, looking at the wall. All he could smell, all he could think about, was Bell's warm blood.

Bell was still leaning in the corner, against the stone. She was frightened of Xander, now that he _looked_ like a real monster. So far, he hadn't seemed to want to hurt her, but now she wasn't so sure. "What are you going to do?"

He looked back at her with his terrifying yellow eyes. For two more days, he could _survive_ without her blood, but it would nearly kill him. Angelus was right: this was a test, one he futilely hoped he could pass.

She was patiently waiting for his answer, though the cold and the cut were causing her arm to start going numb.

Xander sighed, closing his eyes to relax himself, and concentrate on controlling his thirst. He opened his eyes again, and his face transformed back to human. "I'll help..." He tore apart the black shirt, able to remove the shirt despire the chains. He tore some of it into strips to use as a bandage and sling for her injured arm.

Bell walked over slowly. She was still a little scared, but sat down on the cement in front of him, hoping Xander wouldn't end up hurting her.

He tore off a section of his shirt, and pressed it against the bleeding wound. Being so close to her... touching her soft, warm skin... It was almost too overpowering for him to continue with what he was doing for her.

Bell sat as still as she could. It hurt for it to be touched, and the bandage being applied was very painful. His skin was soft, but cold. She began thinking of how many people Xander could have killed with those same gentile hands and jagged teeth while in the guise of human.

Xander had managed to tie the scraps around her shoulder, creating pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding. He leaned closer to her to wrap his shirt under her arm, and bring the rest of the long sleeve to her shoulder, making the sling. When he tied the knot securely, so the sling would remain supportive. Havinf finished the task, he leaned back against the wall.

Bell, feeling that he was done, turned her body around to talk to him. He looked so tired, and his skin was bleached as white as paper. "I asked you before, but: are you all right?"

Xander shook his head, leaning foreword against his bent knees again. "The answer is the same: no, nothing is all right. Even more so now than before..." Xander leaned forward and relaxed again, laying his head on top of his arms as he had before. Some of her blood was on his hands, and a few drops had stained his white shirt

"Have you slept?" she asked, a little worried for him.

"I wish I could sleep... even for an hour... without seeing their faces... They never stop..."

"Whose faces?"

Xander closed his eyes, giving into the exhaustion. His voice was slurred as he spoke to her. He didn't have enough strength to speak clearly. "The ones of people I've killed. I never used to have such a good memory... I sleep but every time I shut my eyes I dream of the people I've killed. I'm seeing some right now. They never let me rest... I haven't _really_ slept for four days..."

Bell started to feel even sorrier for Xander. "What do you see right now?"

His voice became less and less audible as he drifted into sleep. "I see Angel's friend, Wesley... He's strapped to a chair and trying to rationalize with us, Angelus and me... Then there's my mother... She was the first I killed. It was in this same cell... Now there's you. You smell so good, and it's just a matter of time before... I..." Xander's voice trailed off as he fell asleep.

Bell was disturbed by what he'd just said. She got up quietly, picked up the coat, and went back to her side of the cell. Sitting against the inside wall, she was safe from Angelus, but still an easy meal for poor Xander. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, despite her worries.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

Later that morning at 9AM

Xander woke with a scream, jumping to his feet. His arm had caught fire from the sunlight, and with the pain, his face transformed again.

Bell woke quickly, seeing the flames. She rushed to her feet, and over to help him put the fire out. The skin on his arm was badly burnt. The light would remain a danger to him until almost noon.

He flattened himself into the shade, his face still as a vampire... Xander tried to stay in the shde, though he was just a foot from the light.

"A-Are you ok?" Bell asked him. That was just about the only thing she _had_ asked him since they'd been penned together over a day ago. "I mean from the burn."

Xander relaxed a little, looking at his arm. It was blistered, charred, and hurt him more then the hunger he was fighting.

Bell slowly took a step towards him.

He looked up at her quickly, raising a hand for her to stop. "No... Stay away. If you come near me, I can't promise, anymore, that you'll be safe."

She stopped moving towards him, and sat back down near the light where Xander had been sleeping.

Xander relaxed more, sliding down the wall to sit. It made him dizzy to stand.

Bell could tell that there wasn't much time left for her. She'd eaten breakfast only about ten minutes before being attacked by Angelus, and right now, _she_ was starving. It had probably been even longer for Xander. "How much time, do you think, before...?" She couldn't say the rest.

He looked back down at his scorched arm. For the first time since he'd been locked up, he noticed how white his skin had become while trying to avoid the answer to her question.

"What's the longest you've ever gone without...?" Again, she couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of Xander, though she'd known him for only two days, hurting anyone was almost too hard to accept.

He looked at her shyly, saddened by the topic of death; a topic he would never again be able to avoid. "No longer than fifty-six hours; that's only if I don't use any of my strength." Previously, he had been tested to see how long he could survive without a kill. Angelus had ended the test in its fifty-sixth hour, claiming that after that point, Xander would be desperate enough kill almost anyone. He had been cocky and thought he could have lasted even longer, although Angelus was extremely skeptical. Right now the count was at the seventieth, and he was _beyond_ desperate. He was antsy, but also too tired to act on it.

"So how close is _this_ to _that_?" Asking the question that way was the only way it would be asked. Again, she was becoming a little scared of him. She didn't know that he _could_ bring himself to killing her, but even the slightest possibility unnerved her.

"It's been an entire day longer; twenty four hours." He looked back down at the burn. Xander caught the scent of her blood again, and looking at her only made the temptation harder for him to resist.

Bell was shocked. She wasn't wearing a watch, and hadn't realized they'd actually been there that long. The fact that he was twenty-four hours _over_ his resistance level was also disturbing. She could barely ask the next question that came to her mind. "Why don't you just kill me now?"

Xander looked up at her, confused by the question. "Because I was never a killer before... Before I was changed, I was a wimp. I couldn't even stand up to the school bullies, and they were trying to put me in a _coma_ over half 'a the time. And now, with someone like you..." He let his chin drop onto his arms again. The situation was almost unbearable. He'd killed so many, and yet one more weight on his conscience seemed like it would destroy him.

"You sort of are now; a killer, I mean," Bell commented, completely chaning her opinion of him. She was getting very scared as all sorts of other questions about her death began to pop into her head. "W-Will it hurt?"

He rested his elbows on his knees, and held the side of his head with his hands, barely able to stand the subject being covered.

"You should tell me... if you know," Bell pressed, getting back to her feet.

"Stop," Xander begged. "I can't answer the questions. It _hurt_ me, and then I didn't feel anything. After then, everything was dark." He looked up at her. "You should sit down; save your strength, too, so if I try to hurt you, you might be able to get into the light where the chains can't reach."

"You could snap at any minute, so why shouldn't I be able to stretch my legs a little before being killed?" she protested, stepping closer to him, into the sunlight. Bell was mad about everything, even though she was light headed.

Xander was frustrated with her. It seemed to him that she didn't realize the severity of the situation. "Do you want to die right now?" he demanded, jumping to his feet as though ready to attack. He'd moved faster than he had in a very long while.

Bell was becoming more and more frightened, but knew that if he didn't do something right then, he _would_ kill her before the sun went down. She took a step towards him, leaving the sunlight.

_Is she crazy?_ he asked himself. The only thing he could think about was killing her. He was sooo hungry...

She took another step, but he stood still. Bell took another and another...

Xander lunged at her, grabbing onto her shoulders with both hands, pulling her off to the side, and roughly pinning her to the brick wall with a vampiric growel. "Do you like how that feels?! You should have stayed in the sunlight."

Bell was terrified. She looked, and felt, like she was going to faint. Even though she knew he'd be able see how scared she was, she didn't make any noise. She looked into Xander's yellow eyes. There were tears.

He was becoming almost as scared at Bell looked. Xander knew that he could, and if he gave up he would, kill that poor girl. When he'd pushed her to the wall, his hand had become a little tangled in her hair. It was like sink, and smelled like fresh flowers. Through the leather jacket, he could feel how warm her skin was... He slowly brought his mouth closer to her neck, ready to bite. His teeth grazed her skin.

She wasn't struggling. It felt like she'd been strapped to the wall by iron. Bell knew that he'd finally kill her, so she needed something to take her mind off of the pain she expected would be coming. She began to ponder the look that had been in his eyes a few moments ago. The only thoughts that began to enter her mind as she waited were of what he might have been like as a human.

Xander brought his mouth down on her, slowly applying pressure. The skin broke with a small wound. A few drops of her warmth hit his tongue, but suddenly he _couldn't_. He pulled away from her and lowered his head. With clenched teeth, and a soft voice, he released her and gave instructions: "Go back over into the light. You have more time."

Bell was dumbfounded. What had just happened was completely unexpected. Despite his command, she didn't move.

"Go," he told her again, walking back to the shaded cornor. Xander sat down, resting his folded arms on his knees again, and his head on his arms. He figured that sleeping would help him get a little stronger since he couldn't eat.

She slowly walked back to her sunny cornor, and sat down on the cold cement. "Is there any way for us to pick the lock?"

Xander sighed. "No, I tried for over three hours with a paper clip before you came. Obviously it didn't work. Besides, Angelus is in the next room. If we go out the back and I try to kill the guard, Angelus will hear and I'm not strong enough to keep him busy with an sort of effective fighting. We'd both be dead before either of us could make it out through the door."

Bell perked up. "Do you still have the paper clip?"

"In the left pocket," he said, gesturing one hand towards Bell.

She quickly reached into the pocket, and pulled out the mangled paper clip. "You though something that looked like this could open a lock?"

"It was all I had."

"Not the clip itself, but the shape. A clip works great, if you know what it needs to look like." She put the clip into her injured hand, and began to play with it. Bell tried changing it's shape to something she though would be able to open the lock.

Xander watched with little hope of succeeding. He closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep again as he had earlier that morning.

Bell crawled to the lock, into the sunlight, and began to twist the clip in the lock.

There was a click when she twisted it. The lock popped open.

Xander looked up, shocked. "Wow... and wow again. I tried... How did you know how to do that?"

Bell stood, pulled off the lock, and looked back at him. "A little practice. My locker at school had one of those old locks, and it needed a key to open it. When I lost the key, I got really good really fast at picking my lock so I wouldn't need to buy new school-books... Enough talk; lets go."

Xander stood, but felt so dizzy that he almost fell as the room began to spin.

Bell came over to him and used the clit in the cuffs.

"I can't fight Angelus; I don't know if I could even fight the guard, and I don't know if I can escape during the day..." The locks poped open.

Bell slid Xander's long coat off, and tossed it back to him. "It will keep you covered until we can make it to a house or somewhere in the shade."

He put it on quickly.

"There's part one... and I guess..." She took a few steps towards Xander. "... I have to be part two..."

Xander was shocked by the offer, but it was true. She was the only living creature in the building, and if he didn't eat anything...

Bell walked in front of him. She lulled the sling out from under the injured limb and held out her already useless left arm, palm up. She was really nervous talking to him. Being so happy about possibly ending up alive after this, made her feel a little bubbly. "You don't _have_ to kill me now... do you? You could just take enough to fight Angelus, and hopefully not enough to knock me out."

Xander nodded a little, looking at her wrist. With his right hand, he grasped the forearm, and the other, her hand. He looked into her eyes. "You're sure?" There was no question in _his_ mind that he _was_ going to bite her even if she'd changed her mind suddenly.

Bell nodded quickly. "I don't _want_ you to have to, but it's the only way we have even a chance of making it out of this place..." Bell suddenly reconsidered what she was about to say, due to the fact that 'making it out of this place _alive_' wouldn't apply to Xander. "...In one piece. Just do it so we can get out of here."

He quickly brought her wrist to his mouth, and bit down very hard, drawing blood. The anxiety of the situation caused her blood to flow very fast, and he gladly drank every drop that left her vein.

She bit her lip hard from pain, and still feared he would kill her. A wave of dizziness passed through her with every beat of her heart.

All he wanted suddenly was _much more_, but if he didn't let her go now, she could pass out. He needed more than she had offered, but he managed to pull himself away from her, changing his face back to human.

She grabbed tightly to her wrist with her stronger hand as Bell's knees gave out. She started to fall.

Xander caught her by the shoulders just before her knees hit the ground. "Are you all right?" he asked frantically.

She nodded slowly. "Just sort of dizzy... and still bleeding."

He reached foreword, and tore off a strip of the sling. "Hold out your hand again."

Bell did as she was told, and Xander quickly wrapped up her bloody wrist.

He helped her to stand. "I-I'm sorry; sorry about all of this." Xander let go of her, and she stood steadily alone.

"I know... Let's get out of here." She slipped her left arm back into the sling.

Xander nodded. "Angelus might check on us when he smells that you're bleeding."

Bell and Xander went through the door to the cell, and ducked down the passage towards the back entrance of the complex.

There was one vampire-guard sleeping near the door. The passage was dingy, and dark with wood debris and jagged stones scattered at the edge of the path.

Xander bent down, and found a sharp, foot-long stake to kill the vamp. "I'll take care of him," he whispered very quietly. He ran silently at the guard.

The guard jumped up, as though ready to fight, but Xander slammed it into the vampire's chest before it had a chance to make a move.

Bell let out a shriek.

Xander whirled around, back to her.

Angelus held her against him by the throat. He had heard them escape, and waited until Xander wasn't near enough to protect her. "You've been very bad, escaping like this..."

"Let her go, and you can put me back in the cage," Xander offered sadly, angry with himself for not expecting Angelus to have heard them leaving.

Angelus shook his head with a smile. "If I let her go, I win because I put you back into a cage, and then I can find another girl just like Bell. If I kill her, you'd probably try something else stupid and then I'd still win. You're not smart enough to just run, and leave her behind to save yourself... or are you?" He hoped that Xander would run, never knowing exactly what happened to Bell after abandoning her would hurt more than killing her himself.

Xander shook his head. "I'm not going to leave if I can save her."

Bell was struggling with both of her hands to pry Angelus's fingers away. Even if she did manage to get free from his hands, and she tried to run, she'd probably stumble. Though the fight was futile, she continued to try.

Angelus gave a very big laugh. "There is no _way_ you could possibly save her."

Bell couldn't speak very well from Angelus' grip, but she really had to ask a question. "Are you going to threaten to kill me all day, or are you actually going to do something?"

His eyes were locked on Xander as he spoke. "Be patient, little girl," Angelus suggested to her. "You will die soon enough."

Bell suddenly had an idea: fight back. She brought the tall heel of her boot onto the top of Angelus's thin shoe as hard as she could.

Angelus let out a muffled cry, releasing his grip for a moment.

Xander rushed towards Bell and Angelus, hoping to either pull Bell faster, or stop Angelus from grabbing her again.

Angelus quickly grabbed the sling, pulling her close, again. "Bad move... Your time is up." He snapped her neck.

Xander continued to run for them, but Bell was falling, dead, to the ground before he was close. He decked Angelus in the face with all of the strength he could gather in his hatred and anger.

Angelus was knocked a few feet back, onto the ground.

Xander was about to charge at him again, but at the end of the hall, more of Angelus's followers were running to his aid. He turned and ran for the door.

Angelus sat up to give chase, but Xander had already reached the door.

Xander's eyes filled with tears for Bell as he covered his head with his coat, and braced for the pain of the daylight. He rushed out.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

9:51 AM

"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock" came a frantic beating on Giles' door.

Willow, Buffy, and Giles were all in the living room, talking about the latest demon. Giles wasn't expecting company of any sort, so all three went to see who it was. He opened the door... It was Xander.

Xander was huddled close to the shade of the door frame. He looked up at them from under his leather coat. His face was burnt slightly red, and there were streaks from tears running through the thin layer of dust on his face. Blood stained his hands and a few splotches were apparent on his shirt.

The three inside were shocked and angry. They never wanted to see their close friend, as a killer, again.

"Why are you here?" Buffy demanded.

"The spell on me... worked," Xander could barely speak. He was exhausted, hot, hungry, and still on the verge of tears.

"What spell?" Willow asked, lying as though she didn't know. The only way _he'd_ know is if it had actually worked; there would be no signs at all left that they had even tried.

"In the afternoon; Tuesday. You gave me back my soul." This time his answer was very quiet. He was ready to collapse. Angelus's hideout was over a mile away, and he'd had to move through the sunlight to make it there. He'd run the entire way without having had a complete meal in four and a half days.

The three were still a little skeptical.

"Tie me up if you have to, the way you did Spike when he had the chip, but please invite me in. I'm going to die out here..." Xander lowered his head from shame. "And after what I've put you through, I wouldn't blame you if you let me..."

"You're in the shade, so give us time to ask the important questions," Willow told him. "Then you _might_ get an invitation _with_ a tie-up."

Buffy nodded. "Why didn't you show up right after the spell was done; or at least right at sunset."

"You should have known not to do the spell when I couldn't get away from Angelus. He realized what happened, and locked me in a cell. I just got out," Xander explained as articulately as he could with his exhaustion. He didn't want to bring up Bell, even to his closest friends.

They still didn't know weather or not to buy the story. It seemed like some type of thing Angelus would do: lock him in a cage because he had a soul. They hadn't seen _their_ Xander for nine years, and after the life he's lived for the nine years, _that_ Xander would never be the same.

Giles turned around, and went down the hall. He came back to the others holding a crossbow, and some rope. Giles handed Buffy the rope, so she'd be ready to quickly tie him up.

Willow went to the desk, and pulled out the chair.

Giles aimed the crossbow at Xander. "Come in... I won't hesitate in killing you if you make any attempt to do us harm; just to let you know."

Xander stepped slowly into the house. Any sudden movement might get him killed with an arrow.

"Sit in the chair, and don't try anything," Willow ordered.

Xander weakly pushed the door, trying to shut it. He was so weakened that the latch didn't even catch. He dropped his coat and staggered into the chair. He put his hands behind him so they could easily be secured by the ropes. That motion reminded him of how he and Angelus had killed Wesley: tying him to a chair before the torture. He hung his head from weakness and guilt as the memory of that incident came flooding into his mind.

Buffy quickly tied the ropes around his arms, torso, and legs. She could see the evidence of a pretty bad burn on his arm. "Tell us exactly how you got away."

Xander nodded a little. "There was a lock on the cage, I picked it with a paper clip, and ran."

"And Angelus didn't stop you?" Willow asked in disbelief. "That couldn't happen."

He nodded again. "I got out through the back, and he followed me..."

"But he didn't stop you?" Willow asked again.

Xander looked up at her, having to think of a lie quickly to keep Bell out of the story. "After I killed the guard, Angelus attacked me. I managed to get off one good hit, and then made it through the door, into the sunlight... hence the number of burns..." He looked back to the floor, remembering all of the trouble he had caused them.

Buffy looked at Giles, shrugging. She looked back to Xander. "Why did Angelus lock you in the cage? Why didn't he just kill you?"

He continued to look at the floor. "Angelus never liked me as a human, and now that I have a soul, he wanted to see me at the height of my suffering. Death would be a release, but Angelus isn't that merciful. I think he planned to let me go when I was hungry enough to kill a person. That way I'd have to live with the guilt of it..."

"Would you rather that Angelus had killed you?" Giles asked.

Xander nodded. "But then I had time to think... If I'm going to be left alive, I have to do what Angel was trying to do for so long: atone before I die or die trying."

The three began to believe him.

"The truth; what are you thinking about right now?" Willow asked him innocently.

He looked up at them seriously, a little nervous about answering truthfully. He looked up at all of them. "How hungry I am, and how hard it is to look at any of you because of it," Xander answered them, quickly looking back down.

"That sounds like truth," Buffy commented. Being close to a human while a vamp is hungry, makes it very hard for a vampire to control themselves. "When was the last time you fed?"

To leave Bell out of it, he'd have to say before his soul was restored... "Monday night; a little before midnight. I..." Xander couldn't finish the sentence.

"You what?" Willow asked him. She believed that the spell had worked, though she still wasn't sure that she really wanted to know details of what he'd done before the spell had taken effect.

"I-I killed two little girls who were camping out in their back yard," he confessed without expression as tears rolled down his cheek. "They were twin sisters, no older then seven. Their parents didn't even hear them scream."

"I think, maybe, this calls for a trip to the butcher," Willow volunteered, walking to the door, pulling out her car keys. "I'll go, and be back in just a few." She turned back to them as she opened the door. "If Xander can behave before his meal, I think you should untie him. He'd only be able to know that we did the spell at all if it worked. Angelus wouldn't have known to set us up with that story."

Buffy looked down at Xander. "Do you _want_ to be untied?"

Xander shook his head. "It's too hard for me not to... Just leave me here until Willow gets back, then it might be easier."

Willow gave a nod. "Then I'll see you in a few minutes." She left.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a

10:23 AM

Willow came through the door holding onto two paper bags.

Cordelia was trailing behind her, and shut the door when she came in.

Buffy and Giles came back from the livingroom, and everyone gathered near Xander. Buffy grabbed a knife off of the kitchen counter and cut the ropes which held him to the wooden chair.

Willow opened one on the bags, and handed Xander a carton.

He took it, looking around at all of the others. Four friends. Two of them he'd known for twenty-five years, and the other two for fifteen... What he was about to drink was just to survive, but they had never seen him drink blood before. Of course, they all knew that he did, only they'd never seen it with their own eyes.

Willow sat the second bag on the desk in front of Xander.

Giles looked at the other three who were all staring at Xander. "We're all very happy, and slightly surprised, that Xander is back with us, however, we have better things to do than stare at him all day. I think we may have a lead on the demon. We can all discuss it in the livingroom, and I'm sure Xander would be happy to join us _after_ his lunch."

The other three nodded, embarrassed that they'd been staring at him. They followed Giles into the livingroom.

Xander opened the lid, and turned his back to the livingroom so none of his friends would even get a _glimpse_ of his grotesque face. He drank the entire carton.

Cordelia leaned close to Giles. "I thought you said it didn't work," she said in a very low whisper, glancing back to Xander.

One carton wasn't enough. He turned, and quickly picked up the other paper bag, turning away again to finish.

Willow looked over at him. "It's been four days; look at him. It's like he hasn't eaten since then, which he says is the case."

Xander whipped off his mouth, his face having returned to human again. He scooted the chair back towards the desk, laid his folded arms on down, and rested his head. His eyes remained open, going deep into thought. He went over in his mind all of the things he'd done to everyone he knew, and all the things that lay ahead of him in that new existence.

_:: End Flashback ::_

-----------------------------------------------------

"You completely destroyed me, and everything I've ever believed in," Xander finished, still glaring at Angel.

"That is precisely why we can't let this really happen," Angel explained.

Cordelia nodded. "Those prophecies, the Prophecies of Aberjha, didn't come true the way they should have, and it's because of that demon and the magic."

"What prophecies and what did they say?" Xander asked. He'd probably heard something about it once, years ago, but he didn't remember.

"One section of the prophecies was on Angel," Cordelia explained.

"So, what did they say?" Xander asked again.

"It prophesied that 'Once he has fulfilled his destiny, the vampire with a soul shall become human,'" Angel paraphrased.

Xander thought a moment. "Or maybe this was supposed to happen to me, and I'm the vampire with a soul who has a destiny to fulfill."

Cordelia shook her head. "I _know_ that it's Angel."

"How?" Xander pressed, becoming angry. "Because he was first? Because he has killed more people? I deserve to become human just as much as Angel."

She shook her head again. "The visions I have were always meant for Angel. You were his replacement after history took a wrong turn... Besides, helping him now _will_ change you back to human, so eventually _he'll_ be human again."

"The sun's down; we should get going to Sunnydale," Angel declared.

The other two nodded, and headed out of the kitchen, for the door.

"What kind of car are we taking?" Angel asked.

Cordelia smiled. "When Angelus went to New York, he left the old, black, '68 Plymouth back in Sunnydale; keys and all. Xander didn't have a car, and with the nice, dark tinted windows, and the fact that none of the others wanted it, Xander uses it now. We'll take that."

-----------------------------------------------------

Sunnydale.

They walked up to Giles' porch.

"They probably wouldn't like seeing me, but sending you two in first to explain will take too long," Angel commented. He moved to a few steps behind Xander and Cordelia. "He _should_ see you two first."

Cordelia let out a small laugh. "You're really just hopping that Giles won't shoot through us to hit you."

"If you want me to knock, I will," Angel volunteered.

She rolled her eyes. "Knock, knock, knock, knock," Cordelia knocked on the door.

Giles and Willow were in the livingroom, sorting through a large number of new magic books. Giles had received six large crates of books in the mail from a British friend who had recently acquired from a Warlock in Russia.

Giles got up and answered the door. It was Cordelia, Xander, and... Angelus a few steps behind. "Angelus, what are you doing here?" he demanded.

Willow quickly got up from the couch, and ran to the door to see the company.

Cordelia held out her hand, signifying him to calm down. "It's Angel."

Xander nodded. "The Demon who stole his soul didn't destroy it, or curse him. It sent his soul into the future."

"Time travel using magic?" Willow asked. "I've never seen such a spell."

Angel took a step closer to the door.

Willow raised her hand, magically pushing him back to where he had been standing. "Stay right there. I still don't know if it's the truth."

Angel stood where he was told. "Willow, it _is_ me. The Demon didn't use a spell or ritual, he had a staff. It was the source of his power; I don't know _exactly_ how it worked, but I need a spell to go back. If you can help me find a spell, I'm strong enough to perform it alone."

"I have never seen a spell to travel through time," Willow repeated, lowering her hand. "And you have no power; you'll need our help."

Angel shook his head. "Your binding spell has worn off. I was told that it happened about a month ago."

"You were told?" Giles asked, slightly confused.

Cordelia nodded. "He has no memory between his soul leaving, and yesterday morning. He tried some magic. When the simple spell worked so easily, he tried a harder one, a travel spell, and it went a little loupe. He ended up meeting... Who was it again?" she asked, turning back to Angel.

"Three very powerful witches and their guardian, Leo. Leo knew everything that I've done in the past fourteen years. He told me what I _needed_ to know. If I can go back, I will stop these fourteen years from ever happening; it shouldn't have happened at all. The Demon was supposed to lose, and now I have to use all of my power to get back," Angel continued to explain.

"What powers do you have?" Willow asked, curiously. She had done a very small spell to increase her powers, but she had also spent years naturally perfecting her magical skills.

"Elements; with more power to standard spells," Angel answered, growing tired of the repetition.

"You can actually _control_ elements?" Giles asked, almost in disbelief. "I don't see how that could be possible, even though you, I mean Angelus, were trying to obtain power over everything in the world. Nature itself should not have been effected."

Angel wanted to shorten the answer by showing proof. He brought his hands together in front of him, cupping his palms on top of eachother as though he were holding a moth that he didn't want to be crushed. Visualizing ice coming into in his hands, both of his hands became very cold.

The others watched, curious of what Angel was trying to do.

Angel opened his palms, and there was a sphere of ice the size of a baseball resting in his hands. "Ice, fire, wind, maybe more. I haven't tried."

Everyone was impressed.

He lightly tossed the sphere to Giles, who caught it easily.

"Remarkable," Giles commented, examining the imprint of Angel's fingers in the ball of ice.

"Hold it in front of you," Angel requested. "Or you might get wet."

Giles did as he was told, holding the ball of ice in front of him.

"_Abluo_ (wash away)," Angel commanded.

The ice melted instantly into water.

Giles looked at Angel, shaking his hand to dry it off. "I have some new books. A friend sent them to me, and mentioned that each contained very uncommon, complex spells. I haven't had much of a chance to look them over, and, due to their rarity, one may very well contain a time-traveling spell of some sort."

"How many books?" Angel asked eagerly.

Giles shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. Willow and I have only finished unloading and skimming through the first crate which numbered fifty-seven. There are a total of six crates."

"That means we should get started," Xander said, walking into the house.

Cordelia followed, but Angel stood where he was.

Giles and Willow continued to look him over, as though appearance could reveal the absolute truth of the situation.

Cordelia turned back to Giles and Willow. "It _is_ Angel and we need to help him to set history right. Let him in."

"Come in," Giles told him, still a little reluctant.

Angel walked into the house and to the living room with the others.

Giles and Willow followed them as everyone found a seat for researching.

Cordelia sat on the couch, and grabbed the cordless phone. "We should get a few others to help us on this." She dialed a number as Angel sat next to her, and picked up a book.

Ring... Ring... "Hello?" came a woman's voice.

"Hey, Buffy, it's Cordelia."

"Hi, what's up?" Buffy asked in a perky voice.

Cordelia smiled. "A very interesting thing happened... Angel is back."

"You mean Angelus?" Buffy asked quickly, loosing all of her cheer.

"No," Cordelia said happily. "Angelus with a soul; the real deal; the Good Guy; the Dark Avenger; the _real_ Angel."

Buffy was silent. She'd hoped that the day would come when Angel would be back in her life. "How did it happen? Willow hasn't done a spell, so how can you be sure that it's really the good-guy?"

"It's this whole, complicated-to-think-about time travel situation. Angel's soul wasn't removed by the Demon fourteen years ago, it was sent to the future. It makes since that the Restoration didn't work, when you think about it. There was no soul in our present to be restored. Now that the soul's back in the time-line, it's back in the body," she rambled. "We're in town now, over with Willow at Giles'."

Buffy was still in shock. _Angel is back..._ "What's the game-plan: socializing?" she asked rudely.

"The Demon changed the history that was _supposed_ to happen when he messed with Angel's soul, so we need to look through about two hundred new books, searching for a time-travel spell to send him back. If you and Riley don't want to help, I'll just have Oz and Anya be the only other ones to join us. Success means no Angelus for the past fourteen years... which means thousands and thousands of people still alive, and still being helped by him. That includes Xander, who was..."

"We'll be over," Buffy assured, interrupting her tangent of listing things that might change. "I just need to tuck in Ashley and phone the sitter before we leave."

Cordelia perked up and smiled happily. "Give Ashley love from Aunt Cordy and Uncle Xan. We might stop by to see her before we go back to LA."

Angel looked up from the book, to the others. "Ashley?"

"Oh, yeah, one more thing about Angel..." Cordelia began, remembering his lack of memory.

"What?" Buffy asked, slightly nervous about what the condition may be.

Cordelia bit her lip a little before answering. "He doesn't remember anything between the Demon zapping him fourteen years ago, and yesterday morning. He's gotten hear-say from a few sources, but just the basics, nothing _really_ in-depth."

Buffy was shocked. "All the time as Angelus and he doesn't remember?"

"Yep. Just make sure that Riley knows that Angel _is_ good, _not_ evil. If they started fighting..." Cordelia stopped before examining the horrifying possibilities. She decided to change the subject. "How was the trip to Mexico? It must have been pretty nice this month."

"I'll make it clear to Riley that Angel is good, and the trip was relaxing... I just remember the sitter is off tonight because of a project due in a class tomorrow," Buffy commented suddenly. She couldn't handle any more over the phone news, she needed to talk about this in person. "Is it safe over there? We're just in for a reading-session?"

"Yes; safe and just reading... Are you bringing Ashley?"

"If she could sleep in Giles' bed while we _quietly_ research downstairs..."

Cordelia looked to Giles, and covered the receiver. "Can Ashley sleep upstairs while we research? They can't get a sitter."

"Of course. It's always nice to see her," Giles answered, looking up from a book momentarily. "It should be fairly quiet down here, unless we find something, of course."

Cordelia spoke in the phone again. "That would be fine... See you in a few."

"See ya." Buffy hung up the phone.

Cordelia press the phone off, but still held it ready to continue dialing.

"Who's Ashley?" Angel asked again.

Xander turned to answer. "Riley and Buffy are married; they have been for eight years. After I got my soul back, Angelus didn't cause any major trouble. Buffy got pregnant, and had a daughter named Ashley. She just turned four about two and a half weeks ago."

Angel was a little sad. Part of him had always hoped that it would happen; her creating a life for herself that didn't involve him. Another part of him, however, wished that she would have never gotten into another relationship and that she would have been willing to wait for him to be changed back into a mortal by the Powers that Be. If the timeline was to change back, what he wanted could still happen, but Buffy would loose everything she had created for herself with Riley, including their daughter.

Cordelia turned the phone back on and proceeded to call Oz, who could make it over, and Anya, who was busy.

-----------------------------------------------------

Buffy, Ashley, and Riley came into Giles' house. Buffy was holding the hand of a slim, little blonde girl in a night gown and tennis shoes. Riley trailed behind them, caring a bag of child-supplies over his shoulder.

They all went into the living room.

Everyone but Angel stood to give a greeting.

Cordelia went straight over to Buffy and gave a hug.

She let go of Ashley's hand, and returned the embrace. "It's good to see you."

Cordelia pulled away, and got down on one knee to talk to Ashley. "And how are you doing?"

"I am very good," Ashley replied in a small voice, giving an oversized smile. She gave Cordelia a big hug, then wandered over to Giles to make her rounds of the room, giving the other adults she knew hugs, too.

Buffy turned to Giles after Ashley had moved on to Willow. "Anything big come up when I was on my vacation?"

Angel stood, for the first time caring that he was being left out of the conversations.

Giles began talking about a Demon, obviously using big words so that little Ashley wouldn't know what they were talking about.

Ashley had hugged Cordelia, Xander, and Giles, but she didn't know the other man. She tugged on his sleeve.

Angel went down on one knee, just as Cordelia had a minute ago, to meet her.

"I'm Ashley. Who are you? Are you one of my Mommy's friends?"

He gave her a big smile, hiding his true sadness as he looked into her pretty face. "I'm Angel. I used to be a very good friend of your Mommy. It's been a long time since I've seen her, and I'm very glad to meet you."

"Angel's a pretty name," Ashley complimented with a big smile on her face.

Angel brushed his thumb against her small cheek. "And you're very pretty, just like your Mommy."

"You're cold, like Uncle Xan," Ashley commented, loosing her smile. "And you looked sad when you were sitting."

Angel nodded, showing a little of his true mood again. "I miss the friends I had a long time ago. They're just like your Uncle Xan, Mommy, and Cordelia, but I was a lot closer to them then these people."

Ashley suddenly leaned foreward, giving him a big hug. "Hugs make me feel better when I'm sad," she told him over his shoulder.

Angel delicately wrapped his arms around her and then let her go. It had been hours since he'd had anything to drink and the warmth he felt from being so near him was more distracting than it had been in a while. He'd learned to control himself; year by year as he got stronger he'd adjust accordingly. The sudden application of fourteen years _and_ magical powers threw him a little out of focus.

"Do you feel better?" Ashley asked him hopefully.

Angel nodded, giving her another false smile along with a false assurance. "It's probably time for you to go to bed, so you should go back over to your Daddy."

Ashley nodded and scurried back over to Riley, who had been closely eavesdropping on his daughter's interaction with Angel.

Angel sat back down on the couch, abandoning the conversation he'd wanted to be a part of in order to look through a book. He wanted to be back in his own time, not in this strange place.

Oz came through the door and walked over to the others. "Hey."

"Hey, Oz," Riley greeted, giving him a handshake.

Oz got down on his knees to greet Ashley.

"Oz!!" Ashley squealed happily, running into his open arms.

"Ok, Ashley. Now that you've seen everyone, it's time for you to go to bed," Riley told her, walking over.

"I'll see you later. Sweet dreams," Oz said to her, standing and going back over to Willow and the books.

Willow, Cordelia, Xander, Oz, Angel, and Giles had directed their attention to looking through the spell books.

Ashley groaned, not wanting to go.

Riley pulled a teddy-bear out of the bag and handed it to her.

"I'll go up and tuck you in," Buffy offered.

Ashley shook her head. "I want Angel to tuck me in."

Everyone was shocked by the request, but kept reading their books, being very casual about their eavesdropping.

Angel glanced up from his book, also very surprised.

Buffy looked over to Angel, sadly, and then back to Ashley. "How 'bout Will... or Uncle Xan? You haven't seen Xan for a while."

Ashley shook her head, hugging her bear tightly as she gave a pouty look at her mother. "I want it to be Angel."

Buffy looked to Angel again, considering weather or not to trust him. She looked back to Ashley. "Ask him."

Ashley ran over to Angel. "Will you tuck me in?"

He gave a nod, put down his book, and stood. Angel maintained his melancholy expression, despite his statement: "I'd be happy to."

She grabbed onto his hand and dragged him through the livingroom. Now that she knew she'd get a new story, she _wanted_ to get into bed.

Riley stopped him, handing over the care bag. "You might need some of these things." He leaned closer to whisper. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

Angel took the bag, and returned a whisper, despite his better judgment. "You haven't been able to yet and that's when I was killing people left and right..." He became very serious again, loosing his jealously for a moment. He was ashamed of making a challenge. "I would never hurt her; she's just a child." He began to follow Ashley again.

Riley stopped Angel again. "That never stopped you before," he commented bitterly. "You've killed children. When Ashley was born, you made sure that we all knew that."

"That was Angelus," Angel corrected quickly, growing more guilty over what Angelus had done to his only friends. "He's gone."

Ashley dragged him away, up the stairs, and to the bed room.

Buffy and Riley were a little concerned about Angel being left alone with their small, helpless daughter. Angel's situation seemed a questionable but having seen far more spectaculat things happen, they all sat down and continued to search through the spell books.

-----------------------------------------------------

Upstairs.

Ashley quickly crawled into bed.

"It's been a long time since I've tucked someone in. What do I do?" Angel asked her, walking over to the side of the bed. He sat down on the edge, and looked around the room. The last time he's been in Giles' bedroom was to leave Jenny Calendar's body in the very same bed as Ashley was sleeping.

"The others pull the covers up to my chin, even though I have to pull them down again when they leave. The next thing they do is tell me a story, and then give me a hug, and a kiss, and then they shut off the lights and leave." Ashley was smiling big, happy that her Mommy had allowed Angel to tuck her in. "You could tell me a story."

Angel laughed. "I don't think your Mommy would like it if _I_ told you a story."

"She lets Xan, and Will, and Oz, and Anya, and everyone tell me stories. Why wouldn't she let you?"

Ashley had a point. If Buffy would let Anya, the ex-demon, tell her daughter bed-time stories, then his wouldn't be that bad of an influence. "What kind of a story would you like to hear?"

Ashley put her finger to her chin, obviously thinking very hard.

Angel smiled. She was a very cute little girl. The last child he'd been close to was his sister, over two hundred years ago. Since then, all he did was kill. Hundreds of little children had never lived past the age of seven because of him; whether it was individually, through a massacre when several seemed to die at once, or by killing a parent, leaving no one to care for the orphan.

She brought her hand away quickly, having had a good idea. "Something with magic and a happy ending."

He was surprised by the irony. "Have the others ever told you stories like that, with witches, monsters, or magic?"

She nodded quickly. "They all have. I really liked them all, but I liked the magic ones the best..."

Angel thought for a few moments of a story suitable for a four year-old. "Get under the covers."

Ashley quickly crawled under the covers, and snuggled under the sheets in anticipation of the up-coming story.

Angel whispered the story, hoping it would help her to fall asleep. "There were once three ugly witches. They were sisters who liked to do very bad things and every bad thing they did made them even uglier. One of them decided that she didn't like being bad anymore, but the only way for her to become human was for her to do good things and for a man to fall in love with her of his own free will..."

Ashley shut her eyes, imaging the story as she became more and more sleepy. Angel's voice was soft and soothing.

"... She was so ugly that she knew no one would ever get near her. Her evil sisters, who were frightened that their good sister would try to find a man to help her become human, kept her near their cave all of the time, never letting her go into the nearby town. One evening, while moping outside of her cave, a young human man who was lost in the woods wandered to the small fire she had made outside the entrance to the cave. She hid, knowing that she would frighten him away. Eventually, he fell asleep, and the two evil witches realized he was near their cave. They came out of the cave to frighten him back into the woods, but the good sister went to the fire to protect the man. She threatened to leave them forever if they harmed the helpless man. The sisters gave in and went back to their cave..."

Ashley had fallen asleep, even though the story wasn't finished.

Angel stopped talking, hearing that she was sound asleep. "And she lived happily ever after as a human..." Angel whispered very softly. He still could barely believe that this was real; Buffy had a beautiful little daughter. Angel brushed his thumb against her cheek again, and bent over her, giving her a kiss of the forehead. "Good night," he whispered as he left the room to go back downstairs.

He came back down the stairs and went straight over to the book he'd been looking through, sitting down to continue. He began to read.

Willow, Buffy, and Riley were all staring at him.

Angel looked up from the book at them. "What is it?"

Buffy laid her book down, and went up the stairs to make sure Ashley was really all right.

"I didn't do anything to her," Angel assured the others, a little hurt that they still weren't willing to trust him.

Buffy got to the top of the stairs, looking in on her daughter.

Ashley mumbled in her sleep and turned onto her stomach.

Buffy sighed in relief. She'd always loved Angel, but accepted a long time ago that he'd never be back. Now he _was_ back. She turned and went back down the stairs with a smile on her face. At the bottom of the stairs, she was still smiling.

"What's so amusing?" Riley asked.

Buffy went back to her seat and turned to Riley. "Not amusing; just a pretty high degree of relief and happiness. Ashley's fine, and..." She looked over at Angel, becoming sad again. Her life had gone so far since her guardian Angel had left her side. It suddenly felt like nothing mattered but having Angel back in her life again, even though she had Riley and a nearly normal family. She'd survived without Angel for _so_ many years, but a feeling came over her which confessed to the deepest part of her soul that she couldn't survive another second without him.

"And what?" Riley asked, putting his arm around her.

She turned back to Riley, forcing a smile to return. "Nothing... Just relaxed. No more need to worry about Angelus."

Everyone returned to researching.

-----------------------------------------------------

Feb. 25, 2015 ; 6:45 AM

They still had one crate full of unexplored books, but going through every page of every book had put them all to sleep by 4 AM.

The arrival of day and growth of his hunger caused Angel to be the first to wake.

Sunlight was poring through one of the windows and into the room less than two inches away from him. He jurked away from the light. Its radiated heat was stinging his bare hand.

He looked around at the others who had no reason to get up.

Xander's fallen hand rested on a pillow at his side. The sunlight was as near to him as it had been to Angel. Within five minutes, it would cause him a burn.

Cordelia sat next to Angel, resting her head against the back of the couch.

Angel knew that Cordelia would probably have the least intense gut-reaction with him waking her. He reached over and shook her shoulder gently. "Cordelia... Cordelia..." he whispered softly.

She moaned a little and then sat up. Turning towards him, she jumped, giving a scared gasp.

"It's all right," Angel assured in a whisper, taking his hand off of her shoulder. For fourteen years, they had feared him so much that it was ingrained in their mind to run or fight when they heard his voice or saw his face.

Cordelia let out a sigh of relief, then gave him a guilty expression. "Sorry about the..." she began in a very soft whisper.

Angel held up a hand to stop her apology. "For you, I've been Angelus longer than Angel. That's still in your mind," he assured quietly.

She nodded a little, guilty despite his understanding.

Angel thought he should get to the point. "It's kinda' a dumb thing to wake you for, when I could probably do it myself, but..."

"Whatever; it's all right. I was having a nightmare..." Cordelia assured quickly.

"... can you shut the curtains? I didn't want to wake Xander, but in a few minutes, the light will touch him."

She nodded with a smile, and got up, went to the window and closed out the light.

"Thanks," Angel whispered.

"Have you found anything?" she asked as she stretched her arms high in the air.

Angel shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I just woke up." He stood. "Coffee?"

Cordelia nodded. "I could use some."

They both went into the kitchen, and Cordelia started to make the coffee. "This whole _thing_ is a little strange."

Angel nodded. "It must be even stranger for you than for me. For me, it's something that _just_ happened and I don't know the horrors I've done. It's confusing, but I know I can set things back. For you, it's been fourteen years of seeing me, first hand, ripping people apart. Then for me to suddenly be claiming that I don't know what happened... It would be hard to accept."

Cordelia gave a little short '_yeah, right_' type of laugh. "I could say the same about _you_ getting the more confusing end of this deal: you're yourself, but your closest friends are treating you like you've been killing thousands and thousands of people for the past decade and a half. Plus, they still don't fully believe that you're good. It's just hard for me to imagine how hard that would be on someone's self-esteem." She flipped the switch of the coffee-pot.

The coffee maker began to grumble and the liquid dribbled into the glass carafe.

Willow woke up and slowly stood.

"I guess we can agree that it's _very_ strange for everyone," Cordelia compromised.

Willow wandered into the kitchen in a daze. "Coffee ready?" She looked up at Angel, and became very alert, taking a quick step back before realizing it wasn't actually Angelus. Quickly, she relaxed back into her tired daze. "Too early for a heart attack... Coffee ready yet?"

Angel smiled a little. The Willow he knew never needed coffee to wake up. In fact, when she _did_ drink coffee, she'd be bouncing off the walls. "In a few minutes it will be ready; we just turned it on."

The pot was half full.

"There's still a crate left?" Willow asked, beginning to think a little more clearly.

Angel nodded.

"Maybe those other Witches found something... The ones you mentioned from San Francisco," Cordelia commented, picking three coffee cups from the shelf.

Angel shrugged. "Leo said he'd get me when they found something useful, and I hope it's soon."

"Mommy," Ashley called from up stairs.

Buffy quickly woke, and quietly went up the stairs, not even seeming to notice any of the other people in the house.

"When this is over, Ashley will probably be gone. She will have never existed," Angel reminded, watching from the kitchen as Buffy happily tended to her daughter.

Cordelia and Willow were a little depressed by that truth. They all loved Ashley, but if Angelus wasn't meant to have existed over the past fourteen years, then they knew that _she_ was also never meant to be. Without Angelus destroying Buffy's dream of eventually having a normal life with Angel, Buffy would have never gone further in her relationship with Riley.

Riley, Xander, Oz, and Giles had all begun to wake up.

"Did anyone find anything useful?" Giles asked them with a yawn. His glasses had slipped onto the floor when he had fallen asleep. He reached down, and put them back on.

They all answered with a silent shake of the head.

"Nothing," Xander answered, sitting up straight. "There's still a lot more that we..."

A blue light suddenly appeared in the middle of the livingroom, and four people materialized; three dark-haired women and a man.

Xander and Riley stood quickly to fight.

Leo held up his hand. "Xander, Riley: cool it."

"How do you know us?" Xander demanded, still ready for a fight.

Angel came out from the kitchen, followed by Cordelia and Willow.

"Angel, we found a spell to get you back," Phoebe told Angel, walking over to him.

"Those the Witches from San Francisco?" she asked him in a small voice, not very focused given the lack of caffine in her system.

Angel nodded. "What do we do?"

-----------------------------------------------------

Oz was entertaining Ashley upstairs with the 'story' of a werewolf's trip through Asia and Eastern Europe.

Downstairs, Angel was being tied to a arm.

Buffy pulled the last knot tight. "Why with the tie-up again?" she asked, still a little confused by what was actually going to happen with the spell.

"It's the same as the first time: When we send his soul into the past, it might take a few minutes for the timeline to change. Without his soul in the present, he'll be evil again," Piper explained. .

"Y-You mean he'll be Angelus again, for a little while?" Cordelia asked, very scared. "But he had that whole 'elemental control' power, so how can we keep him from turning us into ice cubes and/or torches?"

"I'll freeze him," Piper said. "Freeze time, that is, not 'ice' freeze." She turned to Leo. "I _will_ be able to, won't I?"

Leo nodded a little. "I'm pretty sure."

"What else happens?" Buffy asked urgently. "We send him back, it straightens out... but what it doesn't straighten out? Is Angel gone for good or will his soul come back so we can try again?"

"His soul will come back," Pru assured. She opened her handbag, and pulled out a sheet of white paper.

"We give him a potion, say a chant, and pouf to the past goes the soul," Phoebe explained happily. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small, twist-top plastic bottle filled with an orange liquid. "If he gets to the past, and can't stop from getting zapped by that Staff, his soul will return to this time, and we try something else. The potion turns him into a beacon for his soul to return to. Without the potion his soul could actually get lost in time."

Angel nodded a little. "If I'm frozen here, how will..."

"... How will your soul be able to come and go?" Piper finished for him, realizing the flaw in their plan. She thought a moment. "To use your powers, do you have to say something or just think about it?"

"I don't know," Angel answered truthfully. "So far, I think, it's only by touch or words."

"When you showed us that trick with the ice, it came into your hands, but to make it melt without touching it, you had to use words," Willow reviewed. "You could try something with just thought, and see if it works."

Cordelia went into the kitchen, picked up a glass, filled it with water, and came back, setting the water down on the desk in front of Angel. "Try ice."

Angel stared directly at it, trying to make it turn to ice.

The water didn't change.

Angel shook his head, looking to them.

Cordelia looked to Phoebe. "That answers that."

"All we have to do is gag him," Pru explained with a shrug.

Angel tested the ropes to see if he could easily get free. They gave a little. "You need to tighten the ropes at the arms. If Angelus wanted to, he could get free."

Willow went into the kitchen to find a good, thin dish-towel to use as a gag.

"Thanks for the pointer," Buffy said, going over quickly to tighten the ropes and wrap it a few more times.

She pulled the rope very tightly, and Angel let out a little grunt of pain. "I think that'll be tight enough."

Buffy stood up straight, satisfied that they were strong enough to keep him tied to the chair.

"The tighter the better when it comes to Angelus," Xander mentioned. "I'd love a fight, but that hocus-pocus would kinda give him an unfair advantage."

Angel gave a nod of understanding.

Willow came back with a neatly folded cloth. "Gag's ready." She handed it to Buffy.

Phoebe walked up to Angel and uncorked the bottle. "Ready?"

Angel nodded.

She brought the bottle to his lips, and he drank all of it.

It tasted bitter, and gave him a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt since loosing his mortality.

The sisters gathered together, facing Angel, and began to read in unison off of the sheet of paper:

_The past mistakes we must have undone,_

_Against the power, he should have won._

_Back in time his soul we send,_

_For innocents, he does defend._

A pain and weakness swept through Angel's body. He knew that meant his soul _was _leaving. His face tightened up in the discomfort, his teeth clenching as he began to gasp for air.

Buffy leaned foreword, and Angel allowed her to slip the gag into his mouth. She tied it at the back of Angel's head.

_If again he does not succeed,_

_Send the soul back with great speed._

_But if it leads him to success,_

_Leave him there to erase the rest. _

Angel let out one more call of pain, then went limp, his head bowed.

"Angel?" Buffy asked, a little worried.

He looked up at her mischievously, and slowly shook his head 'no.'

"Angelus, then?" Xander asked flatly.

He sat up straight, as though trying to get comfortable, and then nodded, grinding his teeth on the gag.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel saw a flash of light, and suddenly, he was back at the beginning of his fight with the Magical Demon, Pallas.

Cordelia and Wesley were safely watching from the entrance to the alley.

He still had his axe and remembered everything of the fight, and what was going to happen next...

-----------------------------------------------------

Angelus continued to grind on the gag.

"C-Can he chew through that?" Willow asked the others fearfully.

He stopped chewing for a second, nodded, and continued again. Then he began to attempt loosening his hands.

-----------------------------------------------------

Pallas swung the Staff.

Angel dodged it, dropped his axe, and grabbed onto the Staff. He wasn't going to allow things to happen exactly as they had.

They began to tug on the Staff, trying to get it from the other's grip.

Pallas was shocked by what was happening; he hadn't expected Angel to drop his weapon.

-----------------------------------------------------

"The ropes are tight enough, but are they strong enough?" Piper asked Buffy in a small voice for reassurance.

Angelus froze again, as though smiling through the gag. He shook his head.

"Now you're just being creepy," Cordelia complained to him.

Angelus laughed through the gag and nodded.

Everyone was scared by that lack of assurance.

Angelus raised his arms very quickly, the ropes breaking easily. He tore the gag out of his mouth, laughing, though he remained seated in the chair.

Piper, Leo, Willow, Cordelia, Phoebe, and Giles all backed further away from Angelus and his dangerous ability.

Pru, Buffy, Xander, and Riley all stood their ground, ready to fight when they needed to. They made no move.

Angelus tore away the ropes that held his legs, and he stood.

Pru waved her hand, slamming him hard into the wall.

"_Frigeo_ (Be frozen)!" Angelus commanded her.

Pru felt very cold suddenly, and her skin began to frost. She lowered her arms to try warming her skin, but fell to her knees shivering.

Angelus was released by her magic, and took a step away from the wall.

Oz heard the commotion, and looked down from upstairs, seeing the problem.

"What's happening down there?" Ashley asked him, unable to see from her position on the bed. "I want to go down and watch."

"You bastard." Riley, trying as always to be a hero, ran at Angelus.

"Drown your voice," he commanded, extending his hand towards Riley.

He stopped moving, and grabbed onto his throat. He couldn't breathe.

Piper threw her hands towards Angelus, freezing time.

Riley coughed up the water that had come into his lungs, and Buffy rushed over to make sure he was actually all right.

Pru began to feel a little warmer with Angelus' power being blocked.

Cordelia quickly brought a blanket over to Pru, helping her to her feet and then to the couch.

"If Angel fails, and Angelus is frozen, his soul can not return," Giles pointed out, coming a bit closer.

Buffy nodded. "Everyone out of the house. I'll keep him fighting until something happens." She looked up towards the upstairs room. "Oz, bring Ashley down and take her outside."

"Right," Oz called back. He picked Ashley up, and brought her down the stairs.

"Are we going to play a game outside?" Ashley asked eagerly as she wrapped her arms around Oz's neck. "Is Angel going to play, too?"

Oz rushed her through the livingroom. "No, Angel's gone home, but we could still play a game if you'd like."

Everyone quickly went for the door.

"I'll play a game with you, Ashy," Cordelia voleteered, blocking her view of Angelus and Buffy as they passed through the door, into the courtyard.

Piper was the last to leave. She unfroze Angel, and shut the door behind her.

Buffy kicked Angelus in the face, knocking him to the floor. She tried for another kick while he was down on his knees.

He caught her leg, twisted it to get her off balance, and pushed her to the floor.

They both got to their feet quickly.

"_Curor_ _accendo_, _sor liquesco _(Be fire, heart melt)," Angelus commanded.

Buffy tried to punch him, but he kept blocking the hits. "All chant and no play?"

Angelus gave a laugh. "With my touch, it is done."

Buffy tried to give another punch, but Angelus caught her fist.

"It is done..."

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel fell backwards, using his legs to pull Pallas over with him, and flip him over. Angel held tightly to the Staff, but Pallas lost his grip.

Disarmed, Pallas was stunned for a moment, but tried to get up quickly enough to keep fighting.

"No!" Pallas commanded, too late.

Angel swung the Staff like a baseball bat, hitting it into the wall. The red gem shattered with a liquid spraying out.

Pallas grabbed his chest, clenching his teeth very tightly. He fell to the ground, his body disintegrating into red sand.

-----------------------------------------------------

Buffy fell her hands and knees. Her skin felt like it was on fire; it had begun to smoke as though it were. Her arms lost all strength in the burning, and her face hit the floor.

He bent down. "Good night, Lover," Angelus whispered in her ear with a laugh.

That world faded into a white light as Buffy's eyes shut.

-----------------------------------------------------

Angel stood like a statue, staring at the scattering sand. The broken staff was still in his hand.

Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia walked over to him.

"That was pretty neat," Cordelia commented.

"I've seen vampires explode into dust; demons fall the ground in a bloody pile, a burning pile, or no pile at all when they disappear completely, but never have I seen one turn into sand..." Gunn pointed out. "How'd you know the Staff was its weakness?"

Angel made no reply, he was thinking about what would have happened in his future if he'd failed.

"Earth to Angel," Gunn called.

Wesley could see Angel's destruction. "Are you all right?"

"Actually, it was just the jewel. Breaking the Staff itself wouldn't have completely destroyed the demon," Angel corrected in a monotone voice. He snapped out of his stupor and looked up at them quickly with a smile. "I'm good; just glad that I won this time." He threw down the Staff. Turning to Cordelia, he suddenly gave her a big hug, and then turned to Wesley and Gunn, giving them each a quick hug.

They were all very confused.

" 'This time' ? Is there something wrong with you?" Cordelia asked him, a little concerned. "You're acting a little _beyond_ schizo."

Angel shook his head, picking up the axe. "Everything's fine. The fight just went so quickly that if something had gone wrong, I _know_ that the outcome could have been bad for everyone."

"Well, sure," Cordelia told him as though that weren't any issue in her mind. "Evil would have won this little battle."

"I think Angel means that Evil would have won more than the little battle," Wesley explained to Cordelia. He turned to Angel. "Did you have some type of insight?"

Angel shook his head with a shrug. "It's nothing big."

Cordelia put her hands on her hips. "You're just not going to tell us."

"Angel has the right to keep secrets if he wishes," Wesley said.

"Must be a pretty important secret if he doesn't want _us_ to know," Gunn commented.

All four of them began to leave the alley. Cordelia trotted a little ways ahead, annoyed by the guys. Wesley leaned closer to Angel with a whisper. "As long as you eventually tell _me_."

"And me," Gunn added.

Cordelia whirled around. "I heard that! If you tell _them _you're going to tell _me_."

"There's nothing to tell," Angel explained simply, calm compared to the others. "There was a bright light, then it was suddenly the _beginning_ of the fight again. That's all I remember." Angel lied, and wished he _had_ forgotten all of future he'd seen. Some of it was beginning to blur, but a great deal of it still remained clear.

"That's definitely a something," Cordelia told them, shocked by Angel's timid explanation. "What do you think caused it?"

"The Staff that Pallas had; it was the source of his power. It's gone. I think that's what did it, so I knew I had to destroy it," Angel told them, hoping that would end the struggle.

They began walking again. Wesley and Cordelia were happy to have received an answer. Gunn thought there was more, but was content for the moment with the information he'd shared.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Cordelia asked, cheery again.

Angel made no comment as they exited the alley and went for the car. All details of the future he'd caused had completely faded. Only a few confusing images remained: Xander with his face as a vampire; a girl named Rogue sitting on a couch in the sunlight; three dark-haired women on the porch of a Victorian style house; and a small, sleeping child named Ashley.

---------------------------------------------

Origionally Created 12/08/00

Last Completely Updated 04/08/01

_X-Men charmed Future 2_81


End file.
